Down the Rabbit Hole
by andeemae
Summary: Madge is slipping farther and farther from her known paths. She's playing hostess in a strange and terrifying new world, and all she can do is hope she comes out of the rabbit hole at all.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole**

Madge didn't like the sensation of being lost. She wasn't adventurous. She didn't travel far from her known paths very often. Home, school, a few select shops in town, those were her known places, her safe zones. However, after the horror of the Reaping, she'd known she had to leave her havens and try, in whatever way she could, to comfort Primrose. She was determined to be a good friend.

So the morning after the Reaping, after stopping by the Mellark bakery and offering her condolences to Peeta's brothers, she'd set out with a basket stuffed with whatever vegetables had come up in the garden and some bread and a canvas bag of dresses she'd outgrown for the Everdeens'.

She'd made it relatively easily, arriving at their door by noon, and introducing herself as 'Katniss' sort-of-kind-of friend.' Despite her hesitancy, her awkward stance on their porch in her pale blue dress and carefully curled hair, Prim was warm and welcoming. She smiled easily and spoke in a soft, sweet tone; apparently her difference from her sister wasn't just in looks.

Mrs. Everdeen was somber, understandably so, she sat at the table through most of the visit and tried weakly to carry on a conversation. She asked about Madge's mother, Madge vaguely remembered her mother mentioning, years ago, a friend that had married and moved to the Seam, though she'd never connected the 'unfortunate friend' with Katniss' mother. Seeing the battered and empty eyed woman, though, she could see a reflection of her mother, and wondered if it wasn't the Seam that slowly killed, but being a town girl. Being lost in the Seam makes her bitterly certain _her_constitution isn't strong enough for much out of life.

She'd stayed too long, Prim was insistent, and probably a little lonely and sick of being stuck with her miserable thoughts and her silent mother. A sentiment Madge could sympathize with. But when Hazelle Hawthorne arrived with her youngest child, Madge knew she needed to make a quick exit. And she tried. But Hazelle was nothing if not friendly and the girl, Posy, was enchanting.

"You have a pretty dress," Posy chattered as she took a handful of the soft blue fabric in her grimy hands.

Madge's heart nearly stopped. If she hadn't known the girl was Gale's sister the words might not have struck such a chord, but she was, and they did. Posy's words weren't malicious. There was no scorn, just an innocent, childish statement.

"Thank you," Madge smiled down at her. "I brought some of my outgrown ones to Prim. Maybe I can find some more my mother stocked away and see if they fit you…"

Before the statement was even finished Madge wanted to pull it back. In her mind's eye she could see Gale glaring at her, she could see most of the people in the Seam really, telling her harshly they didn't need her help. Uneasily she looked up at Hazelle, expecting a hateful expression.

Hazelle's grey eyes, however, only sparkled, "That would be nice. Usually I just work with the boys' things, make them more girl appropriate."

Madge let out a long breath, feeling better she hadn't offended them. _This is going better than expected_, she thought brightly to herself. Then the door opened.

In stepped Gale Hawthorne. Madge would be lying if she said he wasn't handsome. No girl, Town or Seam, could deny he was the most attractive boy most had ever seen. He also frightened her a little. He was, like the trek to the Everdeens' house, an unknown path. His face was relaxed, almost friendly, as he stepped over the threshold, until he saw Madge.

"What are you doing here?"

Hazelle shot him a look, "Gale. Madge is visiting Prim and Valencia. There's no need for rudeness."

Gale looked like there was every need for rudeness, but didn't appear to want to fight with his mother. Then he spotted the basket and then the dresses hanging over the back of one of the chairs. His eyes narrowed at Madge. He terrified her, but she wasn't about to let him know that.

"I brought some of the early vegetables out of the garden. I though Primrose and Mrs. Everdeen might like some," she kept her voice even, diplomatic, and smiled softly. Surely he couldn't be mad about a little help? Yes, yes he could.

He was biting his tongue, Madge knew the look. She was well versed in biting back her thoughts. He was simmering, and while she was relatively certain he wouldn't hit a girl, she still didn't want to be anywhere within striking distance when he boiled over.

Abruptly she stood and bid Primrose and the others goodbye.

"You don't want to stay for dinner?" Primrose asked, looking genuinely disappointed.

Madge shook her head. "I have to get home. My dad will be working late and my mother…I need to be home for her." She didn't feel like telling them someone had to be at home all the time to make sure her mother didn't accidently overdose on morphling and the housekeeper would be leaving soon.

Mrs. Everdeen seemed to catch the thought though. "Tell Matilda hello for me." Then she smiled, it suited her, and Madge returned the gesture with a nod.

She'd only just reached the door when Posy called out. "When will you get my dresses, Madge?"

Gale's face tensed, but Madge took one look at Posy's sweet, hopeful expression and couldn't disappoint her by telling her that she couldn't because if she did her jerk of a brother would murder her.

"After…well, soon as can be. This time of year is busy." She doesn't want to tell them her father is worried about the scrutiny they'll be under for having a volunteer. She doesn't want to tell them that they've already received a letter from the Capitol informing them they'll soon gain a houseguest to 'determine the wellness of the current administration', and that the better Katniss does the more invasive the inquiry will be.

Her father will need her to maintain an illusion for the Capitol, and so she will have to be careful how she does her business.

#######################################

With that she said another round of goodbyes and stepped quickly, but not too quickly, out the door. She'd reached the gate when she heard a harsh male voice.

"Undersee."

She sighed and considered ignoring him. _He'll just chase you down._ She stopped and turned to him with a neutral expression, "Yes."

"What are you playing at, Undersee?" He looked at her like she was something nasty stuck to his boot.

Her eyebrows arched. "Playing at? I'm not playing at anything. I'm _being_ nice to a friend's little sister and mother. I'm _being_ a decent human being. You should try it sometime."

He ignored the jibe. "You aren't Katniss' friend. You're just the girl she gets stuck with at school because no one else wants you."

It hurt, because it might be a little bit true. Madge had always considered Katniss a friend, at least by her definition of the word, but she really didn't know what the other girl thought of her. Not really. They didn't talk much, theirs was a silent companionship, but amicable. Madge wasn't chatty and neither was Katniss. She took a calming breath.

"I consider her a friend, whatever she may think. I just wanted to help."

"Did you help last year when those other Seam kids were Reaped?" He glared.

"Did you?" She'd shot back. Of course neither of them had. People are mostly reactionary, if it doesn't harm them, actively or passively, they don't upset the status quo. Madge had read through enough banned books to know how that worked.

He made an agitated face, "We don't need your help, Undersee. I'll take care of Prim and Mrs. E. Just go back to your little palace and leave the ugliness to the rest of us."

"I'll do what I want, Gale. If that's to bring food, then that's what I'll do. Until one of the Everdeens tells me to stop, that's what I'll do." She raised her chin before turning, eager to get away. Then he caught her wrist. Tight. Too tight. Maybe she was wrong about him not hitting a girl…

"Let go of me, _please_."

He pulled her back, his face is inches from hers and spoke low, "Fine. Do whatever it is that you want to do. Prim's good nature can only last so long before she realizes she's just some project for you, to make you feel better about being some little princess." He pulled back and gave her wrist one last squeeze, "Don't even _think_ about bringing any of those dresses to my house. They're probably bought and paid for off the backs of the people like us."

Then he turned and walked away, leaving Madge rubbing her wrists gingerly and fighting off tears.

And that's how she ended up lost in the Seam.

She'd been more upset by his harsh treatment, after she'd only been trying to help, than she cared to admit and she'd taken a wrong turn somewhere and now was hopelessly and unequivocally lost. And someone was following her. She could feel their eyes on her back and the hairs on her arms were on end.

She did a full circle on the narrow road, trying to see whoever or whatever was following her.

"Whoever you are, I know you're there. Please stop following me." It sounds stupid, even to her naïve ears, to politely ask a stalker to stop stalking, but she can't fight off her ingrained manners.

Then someone pokes her in the back and she spins around. No one is there. Until her gaze drops just a hair. A boy, maybe a tall eight or a short ten, dark hair, olive skin, grey eyes, and a baby face grins up at her, "You lost?"

He's cute with his little grin and knowing look and she rolls her eyes, "Well you've been following me, what do you think?"

"I think," he begins, grin widening, "that you're trying to get back to town, but you're going the wrong way." He points in the opposite direction of which she's currently heading, "Town's that way."

Madge sighs. She's taken herself about an hour out of her way. Damn you, Gale Hawthorne.

"Thanks," she gives the boy a quick smile before trudging off in the other direction. Then he's beside her, staring up at her. She cuts a look at him. "Did you need something else?"

"I'm Vick." He sticks his hand out so she stops and shakes it, trying not to laugh at his formality.

"I'm Madge."

"You're the Mayor's daughter, aren't you?"

Madge closes her eyes. Of course he recognizes her, everyone seems to. No one ever sees her, but everyone knows her. When she opens her eyes Vick's face isn't angry or pulled taught with annoyance, he's simply gazing at her expectantly. Against her better judgment, she nods, fully expecting him to shun her, like most of the young people of the District do, as soon as he's able.

Instead, Vick smiles. "My brother goes to school with you. Gale Hawthorne."

Her stomach drops as she watches him, waiting for his smile to morph into the scowl his brother so frequently shoots her way. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Vick shrugs. "He says you're a snob and a lot of other things I can't remember."

_Of course he does._ Madge can only imagine what awful things Gale Hawthorne has deemed her in his brother's presence. He's probably been abusing her name for years, whether she earned it or not.

"I don't think you are though," Vick starts carefully. "I saw you taking things to Prim and her mother, and you never say anything mean when I see you at the school, even when I hear the other kids saying mean things. I don't think you're a snob, I think you're just quiet."

His awareness is a little unsettling. She forces a smile and says the only thing she can think to say, "Thanks."

Vick's smile widens, "You're welcome." He looks around. "I know a shortcut. Do you want me to show you?"

She's a little suspicious. He's related to Gale Hawthorne, the boy who seems to delight in tormenting her; making her feel inadequate, so she isn't sure she should trust him. But Vick's eyes don't narrow with disdain and his smile doesn't shift into a scowl, and she wants so badly to trust him because it's been so long since someone approached her in such a friendly manner.

_How pathetic am I?_ She thinks to herself. _I'm getting excited about a kid showing just a glimmer of non-disgust with me._

But she is pathetic. _It_is pathetic. She knows it. So, in that moment, she decides to embrace it.

She smiles, nods, and takes the funny little boy's hand. Because _she_ needs a friend, even if it's only for the walk home.

###############################################

Vick comes by after school and helps her with her garden. He started doing it after he showed her the shortcut from the Seam to Town. She suspects he likes the feeling that he's being useful when he helps her pluck weeds from between the new sprouts, because he chatters constantly about his mother doing her laundry work and Rory picking up and doing deliveries for her and Gale doing whatever it is that Gale does, but he never talks about what he does at home.

"What chores do you have?" She asks him.

He shrugs. "Sometimes I watch Posy, but usually she stays with mom. Mostly I just have to stay out of the way."

Madge nods. "That was always my main activity when I was little." She pitches her voice up, "Go to your room and play, Madge. Don't make too much noise, Madge. Do you have to make such a mess, Madge? Do you have to _always_ exist, Madge?"

Vick giggles, "They didn't say that!"

She shoots him a wry smile, "No in so many words." _And not always my parents._ She mentally adds.

Vick pokes at a green tomato. "Gale's in a bad mood."

_Is he ever not?_Madge wonders, but says, "About?"

"Katniss. The Games. He said she wasn't herself. I told him she had to be nicer so she could get sponsors, but he just got mad at me."

"She _is_ just trying to get sponsors. Gale knows that. He shouldn't get upset with you for pointing out the obvious." She finds a squash and hands it to Vick. "My father's been to the Capitol and says it's very different there. You can't be yourself really."

Vick looks puzzled. "Have you been to the Capitol?"

Madge focuses on her garden, pulling viciously at a weed and tossing it away, before nodding shortly.

"Is it like on the television?"

She nods again, trying to ignore his question. He leans in closer, though, waiting for elaboration. She sighs.

"It's worse. It's bright-too bright. You can hardly see the sky at night and you can't see the stars at all. There's always noise and movement. It never sleeps, they never sleep."

He looks awestruck despite the unglowing assessment.

He's too attentive, too clever for her. Madge appreciates Vick's being brighter than the average nine year old, but at the moment, when she doesn't want to talk about this particular subject that she has very little information about, it's taxing.

She stands and dusts the dirt off her dress before heading for the porch then returning with a small basket. "This ought to carry everything."

He frowns when she pushes the basked loaded with her latest round of pickings at him, "I can't take this, Madge."

"You've been helping with it. Besides, I can't eat it all, I may have made my garden a bit too large this year. Everything will waste if I can't pass it off on someone." She makes a pained face. "Just don't tell your brother where they came from."

He shakes his head, "Not a chance. He'd throw them out. I'll show mom first, then he can't."

"Good idea," she laughs. Her face rearranges into a much more serious look, "You should probably stay home tomorrow. Gale's going to need all the support he can get when the training scores come out."

"But that won't be until the night," he makes a face.

"It'll make for a long day for him," she pats his hair down in the back.

He grins then throws his arms around her waist, "I like you Madge. You're nice. Even about my grouchy brother."

########################################

The next day Madge avoids her garden, it's too lonely a place without her newfound friend. She's inside, lying on the floor with her legs propped up on the sofa, waiting for the score show, when the phone rings.

The housekeeper is gone for the day, her father is still at the Justice Building, and her mother is on a morphling holiday so the only person who can answer the phone is her. She contemplates letting it ring out, it's for her father anyways, but _no one_calls so it must be important. Grudgingly, she rolls over and stomps up the stairs to her father's office.

She carefully picks up the phone, "Hello?"

"How's my little Pearl?"

Madge frowns, "Mr. Abernathy, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, this and that." He answers evasively. "My Tributes this year have some fire in them. Made me sober up some."

For some reason that doesn't sound as good as it should.

"Oh, good. Katniss is a friend of mine, actually. I'm really pulling for her."

"That's nice, sweetheart." He chews on something, "Look I can't talk long. I have to go get ready for the scores. Tight schedule you know. Won't be able to get any shut eye till _at least_ eleven, unfortunately. The Capitol's the city that never sleeps."

Madge nods, before she realizes she can't be seen through the phone. "Of course. Get some rest."

"Watch for that bird on before the scores. She's back on for analysis. Little wench. Her hair is green now."

With that he's hung up. Madge frowns at the receiver. That was by and large the oddest conversation she's ever had in her life. She isn't certain what she was just told, but she has a sense of urgency building up in her stomach. Mr. Abernathy has never called about Tributes before and that alone makes her uneasy.

She checks that her mother is still soundly asleep then takes off for her father's office. The Peacekeepers there know her and don't give her any grief and she quickly shuffles into her father's office.

"Hello Pearl, is something wrong?" His brow creases in concern so Madge smiles and tries to act nonchalant.

"No, just bored. Mom's asleep."

He smiles and looks back at the paper he had been working on. She bites her lip, "Mr. Abernathy called."

He keeps writing.

"He said to watch for some 'bird' with green hair on for analysis tonight."

His pen stops moving, but he keeps his head down. "Oh?"

Madge nods, "He also said he isn't drinking as much apparently. That's nice isn't it?" Her father looks up with a faint smile, he's catching onto something Madge hasn't and it eats at her insides. She finishes up, "He said he's pretty tired. City's so busy, up all the time, you know? He had to be quick because of the scores being tonight and had a tight schedule. Won't be able to go to sleep until eleven."

Her father's face is set with the same hint of a smile, but he's gleaned something from the vague words. Madge can see something creeping into his eyes. He stands sharply, "I think I can catch up with this tomorrow, don't you think? Let's head home."

He takes her by the arm and they leave, down the steps and to the road leading to their house.

Madge glances around, "Something's wrong isn't it?"

He makes a face, "Not wrong. Just…thought provoking."

It's as vague as anything and Madge narrows her eyes. "Thought provoking how?"

######################################

The fact that Katniss was going to be awarded an '11', the highest score any Tribute from 12 had ever received should have been exciting. For Madge, however, it was now a source of anxiety.

Her father, calmly and quietly, had explained that there was a very real possibility that Katniss' score-gained no doubt by her skill with a bow-would earn the District the inquiry they had been worried about.

"They aren't allowed to discuss what happened during the private sessions," Madge countered. There could be no inquiry if they didn't know what she'd done.

"Don't be naïve," her father had run a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "They don't discuss the private sessions with the public at large. The President and other high ranking officials, they'll have gotten recordings."

That made her stomach churn.

Her blue eyes darted all around them before speaking again, "What-is there-what can we do?"

He'd stopped and smiled slightly. "We probably have enough warning that we can come up with a plausible explanation for how she got so good with a bow."

"We could say she's a natural athlete," Madge offered. "We were gym partners so I could back it up, and she did do well in class. If there's any question I could just say she held back for my sake."

For a moment he looked as if he's going to argue, but a group of kids, all small and happy, are playing a game of red rover and catch his attention. He watches them for a long moment before sighing. His eyes are shining when he looks back to Madge.

"I hate to put you in that position. If there were ever any questions…but," he shakes his head, "it would protect the District as a whole more than likely. Unfortunate, but necessary."

"Then that's what we'll do." Madge feels her stomach lurch, "For the District."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 2**

Her father had encouraged her to make a visit and warn the Everdeens about the upcoming scores and tell them that, if questioned, to stick to the weak but plausible explanation they'd come up with for Katniss' proficiency with the bow.

"It's lucky she was so antisocial," her father had grimaced. "There won't be many people to counter any claims. And school records are a poor reflection of how well a person learns, so they can't make any fuss about those not showing any aptitude. Just make sure that Hawthorne boy is warned, he'd be the only other one beside her family that could bust up our fragile little façade."

Madge was carrying a basket of her latest picks when she heard her name. When she turned she found Peeta's brothers, Ryes and Emmer, trotting up behind her carrying a box a piece. They both had the same stocky look, yellow blonde hair, and blue eyes, but Madge had always found Ryes to be the more charming of the two. He was light-hearted and always tried to get a smile out of her whenever she ventured into the bakery. Emmer was the oldest and most somber, Madge often harbored suspicions that he had received a head injury from their witch of a mother during his infancy and that was the source of his melancholy.

She'd grown up with them, grown apart from them in recent years, but she still was fond of them and wished there had been something else she could have offered them aside from the hollow words of sorrow she'd left them with the day after the Reaping.

Ryes tosses an arm over her shoulder. "If it isn't our darling little Maggette. What brings you out on this dreadful afternoon?"

She arches an eyebrow. "Maggette? I'm a grub?"

"You're right, poor choice of words." Ryes waves it off. "But where are you going?"

She narrows her eyes at him briefly. "The Everdeens'."

He brightens again. "Wonderful. We'll join you."

Madge pauses mid step. "Why?"

Emmer gestures to the boxes. "Dad said to take them."

Still confused, but glad to have the company, Madge continues on, out of the Town and down to the Seam. They earn enough stares to keep Madge for a lifetime, and by the time they reach the Everdeens' she knows she's red in the face, but not from exhaustion.

She quickly raps on the door and is greeted once again by Prim, looking more drawn and pale than before.

"I come bearing gifts," she forces a smile for the girl, who sadly returns it before letting them in.

Ryes and Emmer look awkwardly around before Mrs. Everdeen shows them to the table where they deposit their boxes. Madge begins unloading her basket and deciding how she's going to warn the Everdeens when the front door opened once more and the Hawthorne family poured in.

"Madge!" Vick and Posy descend upon her, their words mixing together indistinguishably. Gale stays at the door, glaring menacingly at them while his other brother, Ronnie or Robbie or something with an 'R' looks confusedly on. Hazelle smiles brightly.

"It's good to see you again, dear."

"Likewise ma'am." Madge quickly waves between the Mellark brothers, "Erm, this is Emmer and Ryes Mellark, Peeta's brothers."

Gale rolls his eyes, but his mother smiles.

Mrs. Everdeen opens one of the boxes and gasps. "Oh boys, you really didn't have to."

They'd brought in one box several rolls and a loaf of bread and in the other a dozen or so iced-lemon cookies. Vick and Posy nearly threw themselves at them.

Emmer gives the thank-you a flat look. "Our dad wanted us to."

Ryes sighs. "You are a right little ray of sunshine, you know that?"

Prim and Mrs. Everdeen aren't fazed. Prim smiles brightly. "Thank you, and thank your father for us."

Emmer nods shortly and Ryes smiles tightly before glancing first to Gale and then to Madge. "We need to be getting back for dad." His brow creases in an uncharacteristically serious look, "You know…for…"

Madge nods rapidly. "Oh of course. No, you don't have to wait. I'm getting better at navigating." She flashes a would-be-winning smile.

They seem satisfied with her answer and bid their hasty goodbyes before leaving, receiving a nasty glare from Gale as they plod out the door.

The room is quiet for a few moments before Prim offers Vick and Posy a cookie apiece and they begin eating noisily. Madge bites her lip, unsure how to start what will undoubtedly be a very awkward conversation. When she's sure Posy is engrossed in her cookie, she looks down at the little silver pen her father gave her and clicks the button three times and watches the green and red lights flicker.

"What's-" Vick starts, but she shushes him with a finger to her mouth.

She looks back at the pen, waiting for it to finish and feeling the heavy weight of all the eyes on her. When the green light goes solid she presses her lips together and feels a measure of relief. She looks back at Vick and gives him a tense smile. "I had to check."

"Check what?" Gale has stridden across the room and is reaching for the pen which she stuffs down the front of her shirt. She's fairly certain he won't try to retrieve if from her there, at least not while his family is present.

Madge glances back and sees Posy is still occupied with her cookie and so mouths the word 'bugs'. Gale is momentarily baffled and his eyes slowly make their way around the room, as if the metallic listening devices will fall from the ceiling at his insistence.

He narrows his eyes at her. "Why?"

She swallows and edges to the sofa, urging the others to sit with her. It'll be easier to discuss without the little ears listening if they can speak low. Vick looks sulky, but he stays at the table with Posy and keeps her from wandering over to where the others are and Madge mental notes she needs to give him an abridged explanation as soon as she can.

Once they're all sitting she begins, voice low as she can.

"The Capitol is always listening, always watching. That's why I had to make sure they hadn't bugged the house. We'd all be in a lot of trouble if they heard what I'm about to tell you." She paused to make sure she had all their attention. "Mr. Abernathy called. He never calls."

Madge swallows her fear and presses on. "Anyway, when he called today he gave me a message. It was a code. He caught wind of Katniss' score somehow."

Prim goes even paler. "Was it bad?"

Madge shakes her head. "No, anything but. She," Madge snaps a look at the kids before continuing, "got an _eleven._"

Gale's brother's mouth drops.

"He called to warn us. So we could come up with an explanation."

"For what?" Gale leans forward, elbows to knees. "You're acting like this is some kind of tragedy."

"No," Madge frowns. "It's good for Katniss, well, not _good_, it makes her a target, but it gets her sponsors. It's not good, necessarily, for us." She begins wringing her hands. "She used a bow, we just know it. My dad thinks they'll be an inquiry. That they might think we're training kids to fight. It was a boon he found out. It gave us a little extra time to come up with an explanation."

She slumps dejectedly as she tells them about the flimsy story she and her father hastily put together. They look wary.

"How do we even know he has the right information?" Gale crosses his arms over his chest and watches her. She feels creeping anxiety inch up her neck at his look but holds her ground.

"He wouldn't have said anything if it weren't reliable." Madge glares back, "And he wouldn't have warned us if she didn't think it was a real threat." She straightened her skirt a little, "We'll know more after the official announcement. Dad said we'll know how much to worry then."

Prim's placed a hand over Gale's, as if keeping him from jumping up and pummeling Madge. She looks pained when she looks back at Madge, "How will he let you know?"

Madge doesn't want to discuss that but gives a small answer. "We have to watch a girl on for analysis, back for it I guess. Dad figures she'll get us the message that way. Mr. Abernathy said to watch for her anyway."

They all look puzzled by this bit of information.

"Analysis?" The 'R' brother looks to Gale curiously, but only receives a shrug for an answer.

Madge keeps her eyes on Prim and Mrs. Everdeen. "This is a very fine line we're toeing. The Capitol are a paranoid bunch. If they even _think_ we're up to something, regardless of the reality, they'll come down on us."

"What'll they do? Starve us? Send us into unsafe working conditions?" Gale snorts.

"Whatever you think you know Gale, you don't. This," she gestures to the window, to the misery outside, "isn't the worst. Believe it or not, we're relatively lucky here in Twelve. Being ignored is the best of most possible worlds, whether you believe it or not."

If he'd heard even _half_ the stories her father had told her of his childhood growing up in Ten…if he knew what had happened to his sisters, their children…if Gale Hawthorne knew even half of what went on outside of Twelve he would know what kind of fresh hell the Capitol could rain down on them.

But he didn't, and Madge knows this isn't the time nor place to knock him with a healthy dose of 'you-aren't-the-only-one-with-problems' directly to the face.

She wipes the sweat from her palms on her skirt. "Just watch. You'll see."

################################

When Katniss' bold '11' appeared Madge fought back the urge to shoot Gale a smug look.

"Well." Mrs. Everdeen stares blankly at the television which has moved on to a panel of former Gamemakers making conjectures about what the arena holds for the latest batch of Tributes. "What happens now?"

Madge takes a deep breath. She isn't sure she'll know what the message is when she hears or sees it. Beyond that even, she doesn't know what will happen once she does know.

After ten minutes with the Gamemaker panel they move on to an older man from District 1, a perennial analyst, a Victor from a Game so long ago Madge is certain there are only a handful who remember it. He's droning on, exhaling the wonders of the little horrors District 1 has unleashed upon Panem when a round of laughter bursts through the background.

"For the love of all things bright and shiny, Iridi, will you stop with the tongue bath?! We get it!" The camera swivels to a young woman, deep green hair and eyes, dressed in black and smiling wickedly at the man. "Mark my words though, Marble and Glower won't last more than a couple of days. They're pretty faces and little more. I'll be shocked if they have any skill sets at all. The only reason either one of them got a decent score is because they suffered wardrobe malfunctions during their private sessions."

"Their names are _Marvel and Glimmer_!" Iridi sputters.

"See? Games haven't even started and I've already forgotten their names!" Another round of laughter takes over. The woman, with her well practiced smile tacked onto her face, shrugs less than genuinely.

Madge gets down on her knees and leans in closer to the television and reads the name that has popped up under the woman's face. _Phoebe Alameda, Victor-67th Hunger Games._ Madge sucks in a breath and hears Prim's soft voice gently asking if she's okay, but she waves her arm to shush her and scoots closer to the screen.

This was the bird then.

She was laughing, swatting playfully at another Victor who wasn't Mentoring this year but was still required to make appearances. Madge remembered her from her Victory tour. She'd had deep blonde hair then, and a darkly cheerful demeanor. She hadn't been on for analysis for several years, though she'd been a call in guest the past few Games if Madge's memory served her right.

The other Victor, from the 60th Games, a dark haired, dark eyed man from District 4 named Anton DelMar, laughed with her, mockingly acting injured when she swung at him.

"Well now, all fun aside," the mediator chuckles as he tries to steer the wayward Victors back on topic. Somehow they'd begun discussing the latest development on a soap opera. "What are your picks for this year? Hmmm? Not either of the lovely pair from 1 I take it? But what about the duo from 2? Or the Capitol favorites, the brilliant pair from 12?"

Alameda's lips press together, she's got a twinkle in her eyes, that mischievous, clever glint that made her such a darling during her own games.

"Definitely not 1." DelMar grins.

"And I'll be a goat's aunt before I bet on anything from 2." Alameda snickers to herself and mumbles something about 'inbreeding'. "As for 12," she makes a thoughtful face, "Their entrance was more a credit to their stylists. Their scores are just numbers. I wait until the interview to make any assumptions about anyone."

"What about Johanna Mason? Her interview is seen as one of the greatest plays in the Games' history," the mediator has leaned forward and is watching the three closely.

"After the entrance those two made they'd have better luck joining the kids from 1,2 and 4 than making a play at being helpless. I may see scores as only numbers, but you better believe those kids don't. Those 12'ers have as well as got bulls-eyes on their backs after all this." She's still laughing with the man named Anton, but the glittering in her eyes has dulled some and she has the look Madge recognizes as biting back disgust flickering behind them. "Much as the little show with her sister, Plumrock or whatever, was cute, heart tugging, beautiful, _whatever_, she's still not my pick. Not yet anyways."

The mediator smiles with his blindingly white teeth, chuckling at the young woman. "So good to have you back, Phoebe!"

They began to discuss what each of the Tributes could have done to earn their scores. Phoebe and Anton slowly drag the conversation into silliness, discussing undergarments and dog food.

Madge sits back on her heels, certain that she understands what the green-haired woman was trying to tell her.

"We need to be careful. They're watching, they're annoyed but they aren't making any moves yet." Madge turns back from her spot on the floor. They're all watching her, waiting. She taps a finger on the screen. "They're waiting to see how the interviews go. I think that's what she means anyways."

Vick plops onto the floor beside her. "_That_was who we were watching for?"

"She's not very, er…" Mrs. Hawthorne frowns deeply at the television.

"Nice. I think that's the word you're looking for. Nice." Madge gives a forced little chuckle. "She's playing her part, I think. Not much room for niceness."

Gale grunts as he glares at the now singing panel. "She could have been a little more helpful and a little less dismissive."

"She was helping." Madge grits her teeth. "She warned us didn't she? We at least know to prepare. We know what they'll be looking for, at."

"For all the good it'll do us," Gale spits back.

"Sometimes just knowing is half the battle, Gale." Madge runs her hand through her hair, pulling the ponytail out. "And she wasn't being dismissive, she was being…blunt. It was for the Capitol as much as it was for us. She had to say what she needed to say so that we, I, my father, whoever she meant the message for, could understand it but oblique enough that is still sounded like good old-fashioned inter-district mudslinging." She shakes her head, "_Besides,_ she really _doesn't_ care about 12's Tributes. She's from 10, didn't you see? They have two kids in the Games too. If she's pulling for anyone, it'll be them. There's no reason for her to help her other than Mr. Abernathy."

"Is that why she called Prim a 'Plumrock'?" Vick looks seriously concerned.

Madge wrinkles her nose, "No, that was just being bitchy."

##################################

After nearly an hour of 'discussion', which mostly amounted to Gale insulting Madge and questioning her deductive skills, the entirety of the Hawthorne and Everdeen family had the story down even Posy, for the most part.

Not that it was hard, but it was essential that they all be on the same page.

When she stands to leave, Vick is at her side, taking her hand and tugging her along.

"I'll take you home Madge. Girls shouldn't walk home in the dark by themselves."

"Neither should little boys," his mother tells him firmly.

Gale stands, looking annoyed and surly as ever, "I'll walk her home."

"I can still go," Vick tightens his grip on Madge's hand. "She's my friend, and you're rude to her."

Gale opens his mouth to protest, but his mother silences him with a look.

Prim and Mrs. Everdeen bid them goodbye and Madge finds herself using Vick as a human shield against his brother's dark looks.

"I don't remember that girl on the panel last year," the middle brother, whose name turned out to be Rory, begins slowly talking to her after a few minutes. How he talked his way into coming she doesn't know.

"No, she hasn't been televised for a few years. She was on the radio pieces a few times the past couple of Games, if my memory serves me right," Madge tells him. "She used to be on whenever she wasn't a Mentor or after her Tributes…well, you know."

"What happened?" Vick is trotting quickly to keep up.

Madge shrugs, "I don't know. She just disappeared. There's no telling."

"She's a Capitol person," Gale grumbles. "They aren't dependable."

"She's just a Victor. She isn't Capitol. She got us a message, so she can't be all that bad." Madge tells him flatly. She's tired of this discussion.

"She does have green hair," Vick interjects.

Madge's face darkens.

They walk on, Vick and Rory doing most of the talking.

When they reach her house the street lights have all come on, glowing dimly all around them. Her father is on the porch staring up at the stars sadly. He nods at them as they approach and smiles sadly before waving up to the sky.

"Ester would tell Flora and I they were holes in the floor of heaven when we were little. She knew all the constellations, all the stories …" His brow creases and he looks back to the ground.

Vick and Rory look to Madge in concern and she gives them a tight smile before jumping up the steps and giving him a quick, tiny hug. He pats her head. He backs away from her and steps down and then out to Gale, putting out his hand. "Thank you for seeing her home."

Gale's face scrunches up and Madge thinks he might not take her father's hand. After another moment's hesitation he grips the older man's hand firmly. "Not a problem, Mayor."

"No, I suppose not." He lowers his voice slightly, "I take it you and Madge had plenty to talk about?"

"Yes, sir," Gale stiffens and his brothers frown.

The mayor turns back to Madge. "You saw?"

Madge nods, of course she did.

"Mindlessly flirting," he chuckles. "A true Ten. And I think the green suits her." He winks at Madge, confusing her further.

"Are you drunk?" She sniffs the air. No alcohol that she can detect.

"I wish," he mumbles. "Damn lunatic sent me a letter."

He pulls out a crumpled paper with a handwritten message scrawled across it-_I do enjoy a good game…_

There's a glossy page, ripped out of a Capitol magazine with an advertisement for a nail polish line based off a popular program on the back. Madge turns it over and groans. It's a drinking game based around the Game Mentors. Someone has even taken the time to highlight parts they clearly find amusing.

"One drink for every drink Haymitch Abernathy takes on air…take one drink if Finnick Odair is shown shirtless…take a drink every time Johanna Mason is shown during her games…take two drinks if Bronze Phillips is arrested after his tributes die… take a drink if Anton DelMar is shown with a woman twice his age…take two drinks if Phoebe Alameda mentions the 'Pancake Incident'…finish your drink if Haymitch Abernathy falls down…" Madge presses her fingers to her eyes and hands the paper back to her father. "My god. They'll all die of alcohol poisoning if they play this. And Mr. Abernathy has already fallen down…"

"Good. Let 'em." Gale mutters just under his breath.

Rory grins at the paper. "Excellent!"

Madge sighs heavily and presses her fingers to her temples. She turns to Vick, Gale, and Rory and flashes a quick smile. "Thank you for walking me home. If I, uh, well, I'll talk to you soon."

They seem to understand that she needs to get in when her father pats her shoulder gently and waves them off gently. They walk away, Gale glancing back over his shoulder a couple of times more, curiously, before they disappear and Madge drops her false smile. She turns to her father.

"What else?"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 3**

They sit in the middle of Madge's garden; she has a stick and is poking a dead beetle as her father stares aimlessly up at the stars again.

"A man walked on the moon, you know?"

Of course she did. She'd heard the story about the astronauts a hundred times from him. It didn't matter though. That was in the before time. Before Panem. They would never go to the moon again.

She shoots him a withered look, "So?"

He smiles placidly, "They didn't think it could be done. Impossible. It _was_ possible though. They did it."

"Did they?" Madge snaps, "Some say they did, but did they? We weren't there, Dad. We don't know that they did." She tosses the stick in agitation. "Maybe none of its true. Maybe it's all just fairy tales and this is all there ever was."

"Madge," he gently chides, "just because we weren't there doesn't make it any less real."

"Why," she grits her teeth, "are we discussing ancient history?"

"Because if you don't know your history you keep making the same mistakes." He runs his hand through his hair, "You gave the Everdeen girl your aunt's pin?"

Madge shifts uncomfortably. It was a family heirloom on the Donner side and she probably had no right to give it away, but she had needed to do _something_. She can feel her father's eyes on her and she knows better than to deny it. She nods weakly.

"A brave thing to do. If your mother finds out she may skin you."

Madge snorts. Of course her father wouldn't be mad about a trinket, even one with sentimental value. Tens didn't get attached to _things_.

He pulls a folded paper from his pocket and hands it to Madge. It's a note, a doodle. Well, almost a doodle. Yellow dots connected by spindly yellow lines. It takes her a few minutes, but Madge finally registers what it is. Stars. Sagittarius. The archer.

"Yellow. Caution. I guess they were afraid we wouldn't understand the television appearance."

Madge nods, eyes still trained on the paper.

#################################################

Madge has a restless night. She tosses and turns and gets up and roams the rooms. She finally settles at her piano and quietly plays a few tunes.

"Play a nocturne, love."

Her mother, barely a wisp of a woman, has glided silently in and seated herself on the chaise. Blue eyes gazed drowsily out from under heavy lids and her pale blonde hair is in waves around her face. She's in one of her silken nightgowns, as pale as she is. When she was younger, Madge had thought her mother looked like an angel. In the last few years though, she'd begun to see her more as a ghost.

With a nod and a faint smile Madge slowly begins. Chopin.

Her mother's face is uplifted and she moves her hand with the tune. Madge focuses on the music, and after several long minutes looks back to find her mother sleeping, the peaceful expression still on her face.

Sighing, Madge gets up and covers her mother with a blanket and kisses her cheek.

"Night, mom," she whispers before padding back to bed.

#####################################

"What do you suppose he'll ask about?"

Vick is chewing on a slice of cucumber noisily. She's tried to get him off the topic of the Games. It's ever present enough as it is and she isn't keen on talking about it, but he's persistent and she's tired of fighting it.

"Probably Prim. She volunteered for her. Those people will eat it up."

She's only partly lying.

The Capitol will probably find the story about Prim entertaining, but only mildly. Love for a sibling is something they will be fascinated with only for a short while before they begin craving something headier. The soap operas that hold their attention are all sex and scandal.

"I hope so," he nods, eyes still on the bowl of cucumbers. "Will you stand with us? In the square when they do the interviews?"

The idea of standing with a family and not just her father is tempting, but she can't leave him so she shakes her head.

"I can't just leave my dad."

"He can stand with us too."

Madge laughs. "Maybe. We'll see."

He's quiet after that, focused on his food. One of the housekeepers, a severe looking woman with a crooked nose and steel colored hair, Mrs. Oberst, suddenly plods in carrying washing. She's sour looking as ever as she eyes Madge and Vick.

"You'll be cleaning up this mess yourself, missy. I've got to get to my grandbabies early tonight. Already discussed it with the boss."

It's hardly a mess, just a few dishes and utensils, and Madge had planned on doing so anyway, so she nods and smiles. Mrs. Oberst grunts an acknowledgment before plodding on to put the laundry away.

Vick frowns at her back. "She isn't very nice to you is she."

Madge shrugs.

"She yells at you if you bring in even a little bit of dirt, she won't let you play the piano when she's here, she's cranky with you when you ask her questions…" He ticks off each point on his stubby fingers.

Madge shrugs again. "She is the way she is. She's been our housekeeper since I was very little. I'm just use to it by now." And she is. "Besides," she smiles, "mostly she just ignores me." As does most of the staff. _Which is for the best._

Vick still looks troubled.

"Does your mom not come down? Ever?"

"Not often." Madge stands and begins cleaning up. "She's…not well."

"Why not? What's wrong with her?"

When Madge doesn't respond he bites his lip, looking unsure. "Some people say…they say she's crazy. That she's locked up because she's crazy."

Madge focuses her gaze on the bowl. She doesn't want to have this conversation, with anyone, least of all her lone, far too young to understand the world, friend. Slowly she turns and gives Vick an even look. "Oh?"

He wrinkles his nose, "Do you not care? What they say?"

She smiles faintly. Of course she cares. It kills her that the people of the District have so little compassion for a woman so broken she can't even function most days. That they make conjectures and create wild stories. What can she do about it though? She can't even get people to stop whispering behind _her_ back at school.

"What do I care what they say? People will talk. Whether it's true or not-especially if it's not."

She can tell he doesn't like the answer, that he wants her to tell him what _is_ wrong with her mother, but she stays tight lipped. When she finishes with the dishes she gives Vick a bright smile. "You should get home. Your mother will be wondering about you and you'll want to walk to the viewing with her."

He's still frowning when he leaves, pausing on the back porch for a minute before racing off home.

#########################################

Peeta's confession is shocking to most of the District. Madge nearly laughs at the melodramatic gasp that rises from the crowd. She could have guessed it, though, thinking back. On the scattered occasion that they would talk he often inquired after Katniss. How she was doing, if she enjoyed her classes, what they talked about…

It should have been abundantly clear. It hadn't been at the time, though, and her failure to see it make her feel like a very poor friend.

Madge's focus shifts onto her father. "Dad?"

His gaze flickers to her for a moment then sighs. "Let's go home."

She trots quickly at his side, wishing she could look into his mind and see what he was thinking. He must have felt her stare, heard the question rattling around in her head, because he slows his pace just enough for her to keep up before he speaking.

"Well, what did you think?"

Madge sighs. "Katniss was average."

"But young Mr. Mellark?"

She suppressed a smile. "He made quite the impression."

Her father grunted in the affirmative.

"Are you going to tell me how _this_is bad?" She slumps, feeling more than a little irritated with him.

He must have sensed her annoyance because he stops mid step and turns to her. "You can't guess?"

She arches her eyebrows humorlessly, "No."

Her father's mouth quirked up. "Nothing."

"There's a first." Madge grumbles.

They stood facing each other for a moment longer before she spoke again.

"It might get them more sponsors." Madge bit her lip. "I know you think it would be best if Katniss didn't come back, that they forget about her, but…well, wouldn't it be better for the District if one of them won? We could use the extra rations."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Very true." His quirked smile faded. "They'll look into everything. Dissect everything and everyone." He ran his hand over his face. "Winning…isn't everything. It isn't a prize. They own those Victors." His eyes softened on her. "I don't doubt that they'll eat up this declaration, that it will catch their imagination and pull at what passes for their hearts for a time. But at the end of the day," he sighed, "they'll lose interest when the blood starts spilling."

Finally he chuckles as they come to their back porch. "The Hawthorne boy is going to be unbearable." Her father rubs his eyes.

Madge's stomach drops for reasons she isn't willing to investigate too closely. "Yeah, probably." She drops to the porch and lies back, staring at the underside of the roof. "Katniss is gonna be pissed."

He chuckles. "Probably."

Despite Katniss' inevitable anger, both Madge and her father know Peeta Mellark has probably just earned the 'girl on fire' hundreds of Capitol sponsors. Maybe thousands.

"Madge!"

With a grunt Madge sits up and sees Vick frowning at her from the fence around the yard.

"You didn't come stand with us."

She laughs. "I told you I had to stay with my dad."

Rory appears over his shoulder, out of breath and red in the face. "VICK!"

They have a small, whispered argument that Madge and her father watch with amusement. After a few minutes of their quiet quarrel Hazelle and a very put out looking Gale, carrying Posy, walk up.

"You two shouldn't run off like that." Hazelle frowns deeply at her children.

"I didn't run off." Rory protests. "I was catching Vick."

"I just wanted to see Madge." Vick grumbles.

Madge and her father get up and make their way to the fence.

"I'm sorry Vick is bothering you, Mayor Undersee." Hazelle frowns, placing her hand on her youngest son's shoulder. He gives his mother an agitated look.

"Vick's no problem at all. And you can call me Daniel, Mrs. Hawthorne." He gives her a warm smile.

Vick wiggles from his mother's grasp. "See, they like me." He leans into the fence. "Madge, did you hear what Mellark said? What did he mean?"

Madge chuckles. "Uh, I think he means he likes Katniss."

"But why?" He looks genuinely confused. "I mean, she isn't very nice-not like you or even Prim. She doesn't smile. And she doesn't smell pretty, like you. Or talk soft, or-"

"Vick!" Gale growls, cutting his brother off.

The youngest Hawthorne boy looks sheepishly back at his oldest brother before mumbling an apology.

"Sometimes," Madge's father crouches down to eye level with the boy, "you like people even when you can't really give a reason. Or at least not a reason that makes any sense to anyone but you."

Vick is skeptical, arching his eyebrows.

"I think that's a very good explanation." Hazelle quickly ads. Vick still looks unconvinced but shrugs his acceptance anyway. "Let's get go-"

Hazelle stops mid-sentence staring past Madge and her father in confusion. It takes only a second for Madge to realize the rest of the Hawthorne clan also have the same baffled expression. The Undersees turn and find the pale specter of Matilda Undersee hovering just under the doorframe. She watches the scene at the fence with mild interest before floating noiselessly to it.

She holds out a piece of paper to her husband. "Someone sent you a picture." As he takes it and studies it she prattles on in her airy voice. "It came on the machine. It was making a terrible racket and it woke me up." She smiles at Madge, "Peeta Mellark was on the television. He's a sweet boy, isn't he? Said he was in love with the dark haired girl, they said she was on fire, showed her burning, but she was fine." She wrinkles her nose. "They had those awful people on after the show. They laughed and laughed and laughed. They aren't very nice, are they?"

"No, they aren't." Madge's father comments offhandedly, eye still trained on the paper.

"They always send the oddest things…" Madge's mother frowns, shaking her head. Her mind shifts and she turns her attention to the baffled group of people. "Who are they?"

"Mom," Madge quickly intervenes, "let's get you back inside."

"She's your mom?" Vick is watching her with his ever present interest. "You're beautiful."

Madge wants to scoff, her mother had been beautiful in her youth, but years of crippling depression and morphling use have zapped any vestiges of her beauty from her. Her mother smiles, that vacant, simple smile, and runs a hand over Vick's messy hair. "He's a nice boy."

"Yes, he is." Madge's father stuffs the paper in his back pocket and smiles at this wife. "Let's get inside, dear. Madge, tell the Hawthornes goodnight."

He takes his wife by the hand, giving Hazelle and her children a nod of goodbye before slowly walking to the house. Madge hears her mother humming the Nocturne as she leaves.

"Why does she act like that?" Posy loudly whispers at Gale.

"She's been very sad…for a very long time." Madge answers for him.

"Why?" Posy frowns, throwing her little hands up in exasperation.

"Even strong people break if you bend them enough." Madge tells her, knowing it won't make sense to the little girl. She gives Posy a sad smile as conciliation for her poor explanation then chances a look at Gale.

He's tense; clearly he doesn't want to be here. Madge is certain his mother needing help with the younger children is the only thing that kept him from storming off in a fit after Peeta's declaration. His eyes are stormy and she's positive he's fuming at Peeta for saying what he said, at the Capitol for creating the Games, at Madge for existing. She wants to reassure him.

"He helped her, you know?"

For a minute she isn't sure he's heard her. Then his eyes darken and his lip curls up. "He made her look weak."

"He made her the envy of most of the Capitol," she counters. "If Peeta hadn't done that, said what he did, she would just be another girl who volunteered. Those people don't have as much interest in familial love as they do in romance. They would lose interest, because, as Vick pointed out, Katniss _isn't nice_. She knows how to survive, but not how to play the Game. Peeta, whatever his motives, gave them both an advantage. He's sweet, he's charismatic, he's playing the Game in a way Katniss can't."

She sighs and rubs her eyes. She knows she hasn't convinced him by the cold shiver his look sends down her spine. Vick, however, looks impressed.

"How do you know?"

Madge mouth turns up in what she hopes is an enigmatic smile. "I read behind the lines. You don't grow up in this house," she gestures with her head, "without picking up on a few things."

Hazelle catches her eye and nods, a miniscule thing, letting Madge know that at least one of the Hawthornes understands.

With a final smile Madge nods a goodbye and jogs up to her house, a little more hopeful for a good nights rest after the positive turn the interviews had taken.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

A/N: Heard the nickname 'katpiss' in an interview with Jennifer Lawrence and it was too awesome not to use.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 4**

The Games' beginning is always stressful. The Bloodbath, the high death count, the brutality, it always nauseated Madge. She watched though, as was required. School was cancelled for the day, no homework, no excuses.

Her mother was given a sedative and a letter of excuse from the mandatory viewing. Her father was at the Justice building, he'd been preoccupied since reading the message. He'd been worried, edging on irritable, snapping at her when she'd asked about it. So she'd spent the morning in her garden. She half expected Vick to materialize and keep her company, but the boy never came. She understood, he had his family, he had Gale to comfort, especially on this day.

So she stands in the Square, off to the side and by herself as she watches the Bloodbath, like she's done every year for as long as she could remember. She nearly curses when Katniss goes for an orange backpack and is nearly cleaved by the boy from Seven, then again when she barely deflects the knife of the girl from Two.

Madge has had many years of practicing keeping a cool exterior, but watching her only friend dodge death was almost enough to drive her to tears.

11 Tributes, 11 children, are dead when it's over. Katniss and Peeta aren't among them.

When the bodies are taken by the hovercrafts and the Careers are sickeningly, gleefully, going through the Cornucopia the people of the District are allowed to leave the viewing. Madge is about to walk home when something on the screen catches her eye.

Peeta is pinned to a tree, the male monstrosity from Two, Cato, has a sword at his throat.

"If it isn't Loverboy? I should gut you and see if you bleed the same silver your pretty little tongue is coated in." Cato growls.

"You could," Peeta manages to sputter out, "but I'm much more useful alive."

The leggy blonde from One, Glimmer, saunters up, eyeing him. "Oh let him talk, Cato. You can always kill him later."

Cato gives her a feral grin and releases Peeta who rubs his neck, red from Cato's grip. "Spit it out, Prince Charming."

Peeta smiles weakly. "Katniss is going to beat you."

Glimmer leans into him. "Have a lot of faith in 'Katpiss', huh?"

"Endless." Peeta answers easily. "She's smart, but I've had years of experience with her. I'll help you find her, but I won't help you kill her. She may not return my feelings, but I can't kill her." He chuckles. "She'll probably kill this whole pack before we even realize it. I just hope I live long enough to see it."

Glimmer sighs. "How romantic."

Madge fights off a gag.

"Plus," Peeta looks to Glimmer, the obvious easy target, "I'm strong. I could be useful."

Glimmer gives Cato a simpering smile. "Oh, can we keep him? I just want to see the look on Piss-pants face when she sees Charming here has joined us."

And with a pout and batted eyes from Glimmer, Peeta is a part of the Career pack.

Madge wants to laugh. The Careers are so dense they don't even see what Peeta is doing. Or maybe, she thinks wearily, he doesn't see what they're doing.

"Didn't know he had it in him." Emmer is leaned against one of the walls of a building in the Square. He gives Madge a pained smile. "I should have, but I didn't."

Rhys is sitting with his head back against the wall next to him. He chuckles. "Should've. He was always more clever than we gave him credit for." His eyes are red rimmed as he glances up at Madge. "He's gonna die for her, isn't he?"

There aren't words for the pain that shoots through Madge as she smiles sadly at them and nods.

"He's smart, but smart isn't the only thing that wins it." Emmer shakes his head. "Especially when you're suicidally brave."

"Always wanted to be a hero, right Em?" Rhys laughs bitterly.

"I'm sorry." Madge whispers. She can feel the tears forming behind her eyes and she forces them back. She quickly bids them farewell and walks, faster than she usually does, home.

She's just barely through the gate when she sees Vick and Rory sitting on her back porch, looking sullen.

"I thought you said he was helping Katniss?" Rory gives her a glare worthy of his elder brother.

With a sigh Madge sits between them, pulling her knees to her. "He is." She puts her legs back down, stretching them out. "He's tricking the Careers. He's playing the Game. He's going to help Katniss, I don't know how, but he is."

"Are you sure?" Vick's voice is small and his eyes wide as he waits for the answer.

"No," Madge answers very carefully, "but it makes sense. Peeta's betting on Katniss killing the Careers. He probably wants to be near if she needs help, and the best way to do that? Be _with_ the Careers, of course."

"Won't that mean she'll hafta kill Peeta too?" Vick frowns at the thought.

The tears Madge had forced back welled in her eyes again and she looked back at her legs. A small hand patted her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Madge. I didn't mean to make you cry."

She swiped furiously at her eyes. "Not crying, just…misty."

Neither boy seemed to know what that meant, but nodded anyway.

"Gale went off." Vick almost whispers. Madge only knows he's actually said it by the dark look Rory gives him, plainly telling him to be quiet.

"He said." Vick ignores Rory, "_I told Undersee he was going to mess her up. He's playing a game alright_. Then he went off."

Madge wraps an arm around his skinny shoulder. "He'll come back. Don't worry. He'll come back and he'll see Peeta is still trying to help Katniss."

She prays her guesses are right as she gives Vick another little squeeze. A thought hits her. "Katniss survived the first day. We should celebrate! Have either of you ever had chocolate?"

########################################

She'd dug through the pantry until she found the chocolate bars. One of the less awful women from the Capitol had given them to her a few years before, when the Mayor had to host a small delegation sent to investigate the mine conditions and determine efficiency. They were large, wrapped in golden foil with raised decorations swirled across their fronts.

Vick and Rory's eyes were moons when they saw them and nodded that they would share with both Posy and Prim.

Gale would be furious when he saw them, which, for some reason, brought Madge a vindictive sort of happiness.

When she got up the next morning she saw that the girl from Eight had been killed. She watched the recap, Cato stabbing the poor girl, and then Peeta going back. Madge let herself cry as she watched Peeta whisper an apology to the girl and then urge her to let go.

"It's okay, you're okay now."

Then the cannon fired.

She sat with tears streaming down her cheeks until her father came from upstairs and gave her a sympathetic smile. "Do you need to stay home from school today, Pearl?"

Madge shook her head. She never stayed home from school, it just feeds into peoples' imagination that she can do whatever she wants. "I'm fine."

Her father stands across from her. His face scrunches in thought, then relaxes as he comes to a decision nodding to himself. "Let's go check your garden before you head off."

It's an odd request, so Madge quickly gathers her things and follows him out.

The air is still slightly chilly, dew clings to the grass as they stand and survey Madge's little plot of land.

"I was sent a picture the other night, you remember?"

She nods.

He crouches and picks up a stick. In the soft dirt he draws a few crude pictures. They could have been doodles, Madge imagined they were scribbled in the margin of the note, much like the Archer and stars.

A flower. A box. A heart, her father makes a point to make the edges deeper on this picture. Finally, several pointy stars.

Madge frowns down at her father and he smiles up.

"Come on. Think."

Madge wrinkles her nose. A flower-a katniss is a type of flower. A box-a gift, sponsor gifts? The heart was easy-Peeta, deep lines meant solid, true, but she'd already guessed that, his kindness to the dying girl from Eight had cemented that for her. Then the stars, bright, shiny, far away…many of them…lots of sponsors?

She arches an eyebrow and crouches next to him. Her voice is barely audible, "Mr. Abernathy has lots of sponsors for Katniss and Peeta, because of what Peeta said? About loving Katniss? And he really is in love?"

His eyebrows rise as if to say, _yes, and what else?_

She lets out a huff of air and examines the picture again. The flower is touching the box.

"Mr. Abernathy has picked Katniss?"

"_Young Mellark is bright, but I feel the girl will do better."_ Her father recites the note's lonely sentence.

Her father pats her on the back. "You know the fate of Victors, Pearl. It may be for the best if neither comes home."

##############################################

On that happy note, Madge left for school.

It was unnerving and comforting how little changed after each Reaping. The teachers of the taken students ignored the vacant seats. There were no ghosts allowed in the schools of Panem.

Except for the children of Mayors.

Madge sat at the back of the room still, but Katniss' seats in the classes they shared were haunting reminders. The rest of the students simply over looked it, looked past it, over, around it, but Madge couldn't. She spent most of her history class staring at the empty seat, only rousing when the teacher called her name.

"Madge? Class is over."

She'd looked around sheepishly, noting everyone else was long since gone. She gave the haggard teacher a small smile before gathering her things and quickly and quietly making her way out the door. Her other classes were just as unfocused for her, but then, they had been since the Reaping. None of the teachers really cared, though. School was only for indoctrination, and really, none of their hearts were in it.

When lunch finally rolls around she's relieved beyond words.

She sits with the dry sandwich and reads one of her books. She's about to start on the bruised apple when someone cuts off her light. Looking up she finds Gale, flanked by a pair of older students, dark haired and grey eyed, olive coloring, from the Seam, just like him.

He's staring at her apparently waiting for something, but the intensity is too much for her so she breaks it by taking a large bite of her apple. She chews on it and tilts her head, her eyebrows rise as she swallows the bite. "Can I help you?"

Gale seems to be chewing his tongue. He glares at her. "You told my brothers the Doughboy was still trying to help Katniss."

Madge gives him a pleasant smile and nods.

"You told them he joined the Careers so he'd be there to help her."

She nods again.

"And you gave them _chocolate_." He looks most irate with the last statement.

Madge snaps.

"Wow, _Hawthorne_, you caught me." She lowers her head a little and shakes it. "I gave my opinion and, _heaven and stars above_, I gave chocolate to a pair of kids. Oh, what have I done? What an egregious sin." She rolls her eyes, "Unless you have something better to talk to me about than a list of what I did yesterday then go force your presence on someone else." As an afterthought she quickly ads, "Please."

She turns in her seat back to her book, ignoring Gale and his cronies.

Then one of them laughs.

"Wow, Undersee, you're funny."

She's confused at first. _Is he making fun of me?_ When she looks up though, there is a genuine smile on the skinny boy's face. Madge's own face contorts in confusion. Him not making fun of her is actually not something she's prepared for. "Thanks?"

He slides into the seat across from her and puts out his hand. "Thom Lacewood."

Cautiously Madge shakes his hand, "Pleasure."

Thom leans in conspiratorially. "You really think Mellark is as much a sap as he's making himself out to be?"

Madge gives him an even look. "I think he genuinely cares about Katniss, yes. And playing a sap is going to get him, _and_ Katniss, far. You saw how well it worked against Glimmer, and most of the women in the Capitol will eat up that stuff even more than she did."

He nods thoughtfully. "Lot of guess work."

"Yep," Madge agrees. "I'm right though."

"How do you know?" Gale is glaring at her again. "How do you know you're right?"

Madge levels her gaze at him. "Don't you remember what I said the other night." His face registers confusion. She stands and grins up at him. "_You_ know how to survive, but_I_ know how to play the Game."

She turns back to Thom and gives him a tight smile. "Lovely to meet you." Then she marches off, praying for a less confrontational end to the days.

########################################

Watching Katniss struggle from dehydration was nerve racking, especially when Caesar Flickerman kept flashing the map showing just how _close_she was to water up on the screen.

The only saving grace of those long days was that it showed Peeta was trying to lead the Careers away from Katniss. He hadn't been lying when he said he'd spent years studying her. He clearly had a good idea of where she would go and made quick work of leading the Pack away from her. If not for the fire he might have led them completely astray.

The lack of deaths had bored the Capitol and the Gamemakers had brought out a spectacular show.

When Katniss became trapped in the tree with the blood thirsty Careers below, Madge fought the urge to curl up in her bed. She finally just went in the kitchen.

She's compulsively cleaning her favorite mug when she hears a knock at the door. It's Vick, he's later than he's ever been, probably because of the fire. She opens the door for him and he rushes in, throwing his arms around her.

"I've been at the Everdeens'," he mumbles in her shirt, now wet with his tears. He pulls back and shakes his head. "I couldn't stay anymore. Everyone's crying, and Gale keeps snapping if we get too loud, and Mrs. Everdeen doesn't talk. Posy is so scared…"

"Shhhhh," Madge pulls him back into a hug and rubs his back. "It'll be okay."

She hopes she isn't lying to him.

After a few minutes his tears subside and she lets him sit at the table. She hands him a cool rag for his face and sits across from him. He tells her about Gale's surliness, no doubt caused by trying to feed two families, about not getting quite enough to keep him through the night, about hearing Posy scream with nightmares about the Games. He's never told her anything like this before and she knows he's just finally reached a breaking point.

"I'm just so scared!" He whimpers loudly. "What if Katniss dies and Gale is never happy again and we all starve and…"

"Do you think I'd let you starve, Vick?" Madge gives him a watery smile. "No. Of course not. Because friends look out for each other. That's why I send the vegetables with you. I would never let you or Rory or Posy or Prim starve."

He sniffles. "What about Gale?"

She gives him a thoughtful look. "Well, maybe Gale."

This earns her a chuckle.

#########################################

She takes Vick and they go to the bakery. Mr. Mellark is sitting at a little table behind the counter when the bell chimes announcing them. He smiles weakly.

"Hello Madge. Your family's delivery isn't for a few more days." He frowns to himself. "Unless I've lost count. Possible."

Madge quickly shakes her head. "No, you're right. I'm picking up a visiting gift. I'm going to the Everdeen's and-"

Before she's finished he's pushed several rolls and a loaf of still warm bread into a bag for her. Spotting Vick he grabs a box and tosses a dozen iced cookies into it before passing both to them.

"How much?"

Mr. Mellark shakes his head. "No cost." He presses his finger to his lip and glances over his shoulder. His wife might hear.

Madge mouths the words 'thank you' before pushing the bewildered Vick out the door.

"I never get free stuff!" He laughs, peaking into the box.

She gives him a sharp look, "Don't tell Gale."

They take his shortcut, weaving through the Seam before finally reaching the Everdeen's house.

Vick doesn't even knock, just barrels in gleefully announcing that he has cookies. Madge is hesitant to go in and hangs back on the rickety porch. Vick finally realizes she isn't behind him and sticks his head back out the door.

"Come on, Madge!"

She's about to take a step in when Prim appears, her eyes are red rimmed and puffy but she smiles brightly at Madge. "It's so good to see you again."

They pull her in and the whole sad group greets her. Except for Gale, who only glares at her irritably.

"Mr. Mellark sent the goodies," she explains.

"Katniss is cutting the tree up!" Posy announces as she wraps her arms around Madge's legs.

Madge makes a face. "What?"

"She's spotted a tracker-jacker nest. She's cutting the branch. She's going to drop it on the Careers." Rory elaborates.

The Anthem is ending and Katniss has stopped her efforts on the branch. As she's crawling back on the tree, Prim squeals. "A gift!"

Sure enough, a silver parachute and a small pot await her. It's cream and it heals her burns almost instantaneously.

"How do you like that Biscuit Brain? Katniss got the gift, not you."

It's not loud, just enough for Madge to hear and she turns to look at Gale. He has a darkness in his eyes that worries Madge, he doesn't conceal his anger, he doesn't mask his contempt. He's dangerous.

She wants to tell him that Peeta won't get any gifts, not because he doesn't deserve them, not because he hasn't earned them, but because Mr. Abernathy has made his choice.

Gale narrows his eyes at her, but she only tilts her head slightly and smiles faintly at him. She turns back to the television and notices Vick watching her.

The group on the television settles in for the night and the Hawthornes and Everdeens update Madge and Vick on what they missed. What they assumed Katniss was doing with the tracker jacker nest, the girl from Eleven, and the analysis from several previous Victors, the green-haired girl mercifully not among them.

They sit around, Gale glowering at her and the kids and women talking animatedly about the recent developments.

"She's really got a chance." Prim smiled tentatively at Gale.

He was still tense, but managed a tight smile. "She'll be back. You watch. She's the best hunter I know. She'll be back and things will get back to normal."

Madge wanted to tell him it wasn't that simple, that things would never go back to the way they were and Katniss wouldn't be the same. She wanted to tell him that killing a person, even ones as savage as the Ones and Twos weighed on a person. She wanted to tell him the Katniss that may come back won't be the same one that left, that she won't be theirs, she'll belong to the Capitol. Forever.

She holds her tongue though. This isn't the time. Not with Prim and the other children sitting there, full of hope. She couldn't take it away. Maybe, she thought morbidly, hating herself for it, she never would have to.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 5**

The next few days are excruciating. Watching Katniss drop the tracker jacker nest in the early morning hours and then stumble off in a fit of venom induced confusion was painful. Then Peeta, poor, sweet Peeta, first urging Katniss on then being cut so horribly by Cato was nearly enough to cause her to skip school. The only saving grace was Rue.

During Katniss' incoherent mumblings and frantic, erratic thrashing on the forest floor the tiny Tribute from Eleven kept a distant vigil. Madge wished the injured Peeta had someone watching over him as well as her limped through the forest and finally fell into a stream, covering himself in mud and muck.

Madge quietly got through school, catching glimpses of the Games happenings during passing periods and at lunch. Her heart constricted as she would hear Peeta mutter, whisper, rasp out Katniss' name. It ached even more when she would hear the boys both from the Seam and the Town snicker at him.

She finally broke, though, after the boy from Ten was killed. With his crippled foot and shy personality she had known he never had a chance, the fact that he'd made it as far as he had was nothing short of a miracle. Watching the boy from One spear him, though, during her lunch of apple and cheese was crushing.

He was seventeen, Hank Leland, and that is all she knew of him.

So when school finally let out she quickly gathers up her books and rushes out the back doors. She's just broken into an easy jog when she hears her name. For a few seconds she ignores it, increasing her pace even, but then another, deeper, voice yells.

"Undersee!"

She slids as she stops in the soft gravel and huffs before turning.

Behind her were the three Hawthorne boys. Vick is running ahead of his brothers and waving brightly at her.

"Madge! Didn't you hear me?" He's flush from running and grinning at her. "Did you hear Katniss' plan? Do you think it's gonna work?"

Madge forces a smile and nodded, hoping to expedite the conversation and get home to have a good long emotional purge. "I heard. It seems like a very good plan."

He stops and frowns at her for a minute. "What's wrong?"

She's shaking her head when the other two reach them and she gives them a perfunctory smile.

"Nothing's wrong, Vick. I just need to get home."

"She has better things to do than chat with you Vick." Gale is giving her a look. Like he knew she would fail his brother eventually and now was the proof.

Her mouth presses into a firm line. "I need to be home…" She shakes her head, unable to think of a suitable excuse, which is appalling, she's the daughter of a politician, making up excuses is second nature. "There might be a call," she finally supplies. It's not a lie, not necessarily.

"The boy from 10…my father is from 10." She mutters. "I need to make sure he's alright."

"Did he know him?" Rory asks.

Madge shakes her head. "No, but…when someone, one of the Tens dies…it's hard."

She wants to tell him that most of the kids Reaped in Ten are orphans and that Hank Leland was one of a long line of family-less Tributes that will return to the District and likely be buried alone, but she doesn't.

Rory nods and Vick gives her a weak smile. Gale seems to be studying her and she feels her cheeks warm under the scrutiny.

"Tell him we're sorry." Vick softly murmurs.

She smiles sadly and pats his shoulder as she continues on her way.

#####################################

When she gets home she cries on the floor in her bathroom. Heavy, heaving sobs. For Katniss and Peeta. For Rue. For Hank Leland. For Vick, Rory, Posy, Prim, and even Gale. Her throat is raw and scratchy when she finally finishes and drags herself up. She draws a warm bath and considers drowning herself in it, but decides against it. She doesn't want to leave a water logged corpse.

She watches as Katniss blows up the Careers' food supply, stumble around in shock then hide, and as Cato snaps the boy from Three's neck. Then she slips into a restless sleep.

She finally skips school the next day, damn them all. She doesn't care.

She's lying across her bed, the television on mute, when she hears the tinkling of the phone in her father's office.

No one is home and so she dashes down the hall and skids to a stop at the desk, snatching up the phone. Before speaking she takes a breath. "Hello?"

"Hello Pearl."

There's silence for several seconds before Mr. Abernathy speaks again. "Your dad isn't home I take it?"

"No."

Madge can almost hear him scowling in the phone.

"They got bored with the girl shriveling up in front of them pretty quickly, didn't they?"

Madge makes a face then remembers he can't see her. "You're horrible."

"I know."

For a minute Madge wonders if he's only called to annoy them, and she isn't in the mood for it.

"Listen if you don't-"

"Oh plug it, sweetheart. This isn't a social call, but then when is it ever?" He chuckles. It's quiet again then there's a heavy sigh. "They'll be sending you out a scout soon."

Madge nods absently again, forgetting he can't see her.

"They've been showing the devil cousins all afternoon, since…well, since the last death." Madge can visualize him shaking his head before he continues. "They're preparing for an exciting spot tonight."

It's a warning. Something big is being delayed, possibly edited.

"Can you-"

"No."

Madge bites back the disappointment.

"I have to go." There's a smirk in his voice. "Warn Danny boy about getting a guest coming soon."

Then he's gone. The line is dead and all that's left is the soft humming tone. Madge hangs it up and gets out of the chair. Despite the unpleasant implications, the call has given Madge a temporary purpose.

#############################################

After hiding the bug finding pen down her shirt, pilfering a basket full of whatever was freshest from the pantry, and a quick visit to her father at the Justice building telling him what was said and that she was going to the Everdeens, Madge heads for the Seam.

She still feels overwhelmed by the place, and is afraid she might get lost, but soon finds herself in front of the Everdeens' door. There's giggling behind the door, childish squealing and pounding feet before Hazelle's voice gently but firmly reprimands her children. Knowing she's about to ruin the mood, Madge softly knocks on the door.

She's greeted by a brightly smiling Prim. "Madge!" She hugs her and pulls her in the room.

Posy squeals in delight and lunges at her. "Did you bring presents?"

Madge hoists the basket and the girl grabs it from her over her mother's protest.

"It's fine Mrs. Hawthorne, really."

Gale, who had obviously been the source of the pounding feet from chasing Posy is looking at her suspiciously. "You weren't at school today?"

Madge nods, "No, I wasn't."

"You never miss school."

"First time for everything." She forces a smile and tries desperately to think of an opening. Her father had assured her Mr. Abernathy would have been more obvious if either Katniss or Peeta had died, but Madge was still uncertain. She raises her finger to her lips and pulls out the pen. When it flashes the all clear she speaks "We received a called."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 6**

Mrs. Everdeen sinks to her chair. "Something's wrong."

Madge clasps her hands in front of her to keep from fidgeting. She carefully walks to the table and waits for Hazelle, Gale, Prim, and Rory. She waves a very excited-to-be-involved Vick over and waits until Posy is occupied with a cream filled candy before speaking.

"He said they've been editing, which is never a good sign. They haven't shown Katniss since she started looking for Rue. When they delay an event, focus on one group for too long, it generally means something big is about to happen." She scrunches her nose. "The fact that they haven't shown the aftermath of the explosion on Katniss' side isn't very promising."

Gale's eyes are boring holes into her. "Maybe they just don't want to show her because nothing interesting is happening?" He doesn't have that arrogant, hateful tone for once and Madge wishes she didn't have to tell him what she is about to.

"They've been showing Gabrielle, the girl from Five, and she isn't doing anything interesting. They show Peeta moaning and dying in the mud. They showed Katniss sleeping off the tracker jacker venom for a day and going through the throws of dehydration too." She tugs anxiously on her ponytail. "They always show just a bit of the boring stuff to remind you they're alive. When they stop showing them is when you need to start worrying, haven't you ever noticed?"

Judging by the looks on their faces they hadn't.

"What do you think has happened?" Prim's voice is very small and Madge smiles faintly.

"I don't know. My father doesn't think its Katniss or Peeta. He said Mr. Abernathy would have given some kind of sign if it were." Madge begins picking at a spot on the table. "He said they'll be in the District soon. Getting the final eight's families ready for television. So we know at least one of them for sure is still alive."

"It's Katniss," Gale reassures Prim who has begun to tremble. "Pastry Pants is almost done for."

Madge can't help but give him a sour look. "_Peeta_ may not be in the greatest shape, but from what I've seen his vitals are stable and, like I said, they've been showing him. He's in less danger at the moment than Katniss."

"Whose side are you on, Undersee?" He growls, the hostility back.

"Gale!" His mother harshly shouts.

"She defends Bread-for-Brains and comes to tell us things that may or may not be bad and just expects us to believe her!" He fixes her in a dark look. "For all we know she's lying. She could be making everything up just to make herself feel important, useful for once. Give herself a reason to get down in the coal dust with the rest of us."

The implication that she has no worth once again stings at Madge's confidence.

"I'm on Katniss' side, and you know it." She sets her features sternly. "That doesn't mean I'm going to trash Peeta though. He hasn't done anything to deserve it and I don't appreciate you being such a complete jerk about him." She wrinkles her nose. "He's done nothing but try to help Katniss, give her the best chance at coming home, and you can't find one kind thing to say about him. You can't find it in your heart to have sympathy for a _man_who is going to die, very shortly and in horrible pain, so that someone he's loved from a distance, who probably never even knew he existed, can live." She takes a steadying breath. "Everything I've told you has been the truth, its all panned out if you'd bother to pay attention. And I don't need an excuse to come here and visit."

She wants to tell him he's selfish, that he's a pig and a brat and a wretch, but she doesn't. Instead she pushes herself away from the table and stands abruptly. "Prim, Mrs. Everdeen, if I hear anything else I'll let you know."

Before anyone can stop her she's out the door. Halfway down the block she hears a deep voice yelling at her. She doesn't care what he has to say, it'll either be more abuse and she doesn't care for that or he'll spout off some false apology instigated by his mother and she doesn't want that either.

She takes off in a dead run, the ground pounding under her feet almost drowns out his yells. By the time she reaches her house she's left him long ago at the edge of the Seam.

###########################################

Rue's death is sickening. The skinny, wide eyed, tiny girl is, _was_, only twelve. She didn't deserve to die, and she didn't deserve to have her death become primetime television.

Watching carefully, Madge can see the editing. Her father had taught her years before, to watch for subtle clue, skips, and inconsistencies. The Capitol's Game producers were good, but not so good that someone who was paying close attention couldn't catch them.

They lengthened Katniss' run to her, looped the girl's dying breath, it probably took less than a few minutes, _not_ the nearly thirty minutes they stretched it to, and they removed an entire section. After the girl's last breath Madge knew there had to be twenty or more minutes that vanished before Katniss raises her fingers to the sky in salute to Rue.

She's surprised they allow that gesture to make it to air. Though, as her father points out, it helps that it was already allowed to make the Reaping broadcast. It's viewed as a hokey, backwards district's farewell, nothing dangerous, only sad and pathetic.

The bread coming from Eleven is unexpected and it causes her father to frown disconcertedly. The fact that Katniss' thank you to the people of Eleven also is allowed to air causes him to sit forward in his chair, eyes narrowed and mumbling to himself.

When Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman appear and begin interviews with a new panel of analysts, from Four, Five, and Nine this time, Madge is silently beckoned by her father. They go to the garden and he picks one of the small tomatoes and pops it in his mouth.

"The prep person from the Capitol will be here in the morning." He sighs. "Then they'll send the stylists and reporters, the dregs of society." His hand runs through his hair, seemingly greyer than it had been just a week ago. "Do you know what that means for us?"

Madge toys with one of the tomato cages and frowns. "They'll prepare the family for interviews? Make sure the District is presentable for the Capitol. They'll want to learn everything about them, no matter how stupid…" Her nose wrinkles. "What else?"

"Victors are the property of the Capitol, Magdalene. How do they keep hold over those people? They are the strongest of the strong. Why do they bow down? Why do they allow themselves to be paraded around, smile, do what they're told?"

A half-formed, twisted thought builds in Madge's mind and she grips the cage until her knuckles turn white.

"The oldest tricks in the book. Threats. Coercion. They use their loved ones against them."

The thought of Prim and Mrs. Everdeen being used against Katniss is abhorrent.

"I don't know how much help we'll be, how much we can hide…" He shakes his head wearily. "I'm not even entirely certain _what_we'll need to hide other than the hunting, which we've done. More than likely they've already started their research. We can only pray they haven't found anything incriminating already." His worn fingers run over his knuckles and make a loud popping noise. "You don't want to hear it, and I hate to say it, but the best thing for this District is if that girl never comes home."

Madge swallows down the bile in her throat.

She doesn't argue, because she knows it's true.

########################################

The sun is just barely peaking over the horizon, painting the sky brilliant pinks, oranges, and purples, when the train arrives from the Capitol bringing the prep person, and with them fresh dread.

Bleary eyed, Madge waits with her father at the station at the unholy hour. There's a flash of green and a whip of indigo when the green-haired girl from the television jumps from the train and onto the platform. The Peacekeepers with her laugh when she turns to them and gives them a little bow before she flings her arms out. "Where are my applause, boys?"

Madge's father covers his eyes and lets out a sigh.

She straightens her silken dress and smoothes her hair before turning her attention to Madge and her father.

"Phoebe Alameda, 67th Victor," She juts her hand out. Her nails are the same shade of green as her hair.

Madge's father looks slightly worried, but takes her hand. "Mayor Daniel Undersee, and this is my daughter, Madge."

"Magdalene." Miss Alameda puts her hand out for Madge who takes it with more than a little confusion.

"It's a pleasure," Madge murmurs.

"I doubt that." Ms. Alameda beams, completely unfazed.

She's more Capitol in person than she was on the television. Her dress and shoes are an brilliant indigo, the silk shimmers in the morning sun. On her arm is a dingy, oversized bag. Her hair is like a smooth moss, perfectly curled up at the ends, and her lips, eyelids, and fingernails are all the same rich shade. Her skin isn't as pale as Madge's own, but isn't warm and olive like those from the Seam. Though Madge wonders if it would be darker were it not for the blue and green hues casting her in a deathly pallor.

The Victor squints and turns on her heels and waves an impatient hand to the Peacekeepers that had arrived with her on the train.

"Boys, bring my things to the Mayor's house."

She grins, mossy lips stretched over too white teeth, and presses her hands together. "Lead the way."

########################################

Madge had been tempted to skip school again and protect the staff from the madness of their houseguest. However, after she had the Peacekeepers deposit her bags and began settling down, Miss Alameda was nothing but the perfect guest. She was contained in the smallest of the extra rooms, unfortunately next to Madge's, and assured both Madge and her father that she would be needing no assistance as she would be catching up on some much needed rest until at least noon.

Madge assumed noon actually meant two or three, as that was the general meaning with most people from the Capitol. So she went to school and at the end of the day sought out Prim to warn her she would be getting an unpleasant visit shortly.

"Her name is Phoebe Alameda." Madge tells her in a low voice. "She's the Victor from the 67th Games."

"What will she do?" Prim's wide eyes flicker with worry.

"I'm not sure. She's meant to gather up friends and family for the interviews and prepare you. We've not had anyone get this far in the Games since Mr. Abernathy so I'm not sure what exactly the preparing entails."

Prim twists the strap of her bag painfully in her hands as she glances around.

"Will you be with her? When she comes?"

Madge nods somberly. "I will. I can't guarantee I'll be any help though. I haven't got any power over her. I don't have a good feel for her yet so I don't know how she is."

She doubts the Victor is going to be easy to deal with, though. During lunch Madge looked her up and found she was one of the youngest Victors, meaning she _would_ be more Capitol than most, much to Madge's dismay.

They part and Madge runs home, expecting to find Phoebe Alameda just waking and preparing for the day.

Only she wasn't.

"Oh, Phoebe? She left hours ago."

Mrs. Oberst is humming, actually humming, as she folds some laundry.

"Left? For where?" Madge feels panic building in her chest.

"She didn't say." Mrs. Oberst smiles as she picks up a stack of towels.

Anxiety races through her veins as she bolts out the door and runs to her father's office across the way.

He looks up with mild surprise at her breathless entrance. "Something the matter, Pearl?"

"Miss Alameda, she's gone." Madge manages.

His eyebrows rise fractionally. "Yes, I know. She's at the Mellarks."

He doesn't elaborate, because he knows he doesn't have to. He certainly couldn't follow their guest around like a lost puppy, but Madge could. She nods slowly before backing out the door and racing off again to find their not-quite-lost houseguest. Though she isn't quite sure what she's to do with her when she does.

#######################################

Of all the things Madge's active imagination could've come up with for when she entered the Mellark Bakery, uproarious laughter would not have even made the top ten.

That's what met her though. Peeta's father, brothers, and even his awful mother, were all sitting, very well at ease, around their dining room table, laughing and getting along very well when Madge arrived. She called out to them when the tinkling of the front door bell failed to bring them out, and Rhys popped up to the front desk to collect her and take her back.

Miss Alameda is miming the antics of someone she knew in the Capitol, flailing her arms and whipping her deep green hair in all directions for effect. She animatedly tells the story, as she goes along, of a drinking game and the Capitolite's participation. It ends abruptly when the man apparently falls in front of a bus.

"Oh my!" Mr. Mellark stops laughing. They all stop laughing, except Miss Alameda.

"Was he all right?" Emmer is desperately trying to compose himself; tears of laughter are still visible in his eyes though.

Miss Alameda is still tittering. "Lord, boy, he fell into traffic! Hit by a bus goin' at 60! He's dead!" She doesn't look bothered at all by the man's death.

She looks around when she realizes no one else is laughing with her and begins to pull herself together.

"I'm so, so sorry! You all must think I'm horrible, but honestly, he wasn't a very nice man." She notices Madge standing just behind Rhys and smiles warmly at her. "Magdalene! Come to join us?"

She waves to the seat next to her and Madge feels obliged to take it. Miss Alameda turns her attention back to the Mellarks.

"Well, I think we're about done here. I think y'all will do just fine. Peeta's such a charmer he hardly needs any assistance. Girls all over the Capitol are just enamored with him. It's not often a Tribute comes along that's both handsome _and_clever." She pats Mr. Mellark's hand. "And don't you worry your pretty little mind about the gifts. It's no reflection on Peeta. Mr. Haymitch is the one distributing those."

_And he's chosen the girl._

It's unspoken, but Madge and the Mellarks all clearly hear it, echoing in the small dining area. Miss Alameda takes a sip from her glass; her lipstick doesn't even leave a mark. She stands after a long moment and begins gathering up her dingy looking bag. Her light voice begins rattling off instructions as she goes.

"I'll come with the interviewer to double and triple check everything, so don't stress yourselves out, my dears. I'll make sure the friends you gave me are prepared as well, but we like to focus of the family with the first round of interviews." She pauses to take a breath.

"Just remember everything I've told you. Set the rooms up just as I've said, wear just what I've said, and above all," she beams at them, "smile."

They nod, somewhat dumbfounded. Though they clearly understand Miss Alameda's instructions they don't seem to be able to vocalize the acknowledgement. She seems to be accustomed to this and gives them a reassuring grin before taking a very confused Madge by the arm and dragging her out with her.

"Aren't they just the loveliest people?" Miss Alameda says more to herself than to Madge.

Madge is still gathering her bearings so she doesn't even bother nodding. She stops and looks dumbfounded at the green haired woman.

"You weren't at the house."

Miss Alameda arches an eyebrow. "Keen observational skills, Magdalene. Noticed my disappearance and then found me. You have the makings of a brilliant detective. The next Sherlock Holmes, mark my words."

Madge feels her jaw drop. "I just-I didn't expect-already up…"

"I may look Capitol, honey, but I ain't." She gives Madge a superior, haughty look. Then, in a blink of an eye she smiles.

"I say I'll be up by noon, I'll be up by noon. I say I'll be up by six am, I'll be up by six am. And you bet your coal carts those idiots will be up when I say they will too. I'm not just here to whip you bunch of lumpy bumpkins into presentable states."

She'd been adjusting her hair in a small compact which she closes with a snap.

"You're a smart girl. You know you have a part to play. Your dad, me and the other Victors, Tributes, families…all of us have our part. 'All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players'."

"They have their exits and their entrances-"

"And one man in his time plays many parts." Miss Alameda finishes with a grin. "Lucky us he isn't banned. What's your favorite play, Magdalene?"

Madge hesitates. It seems to be a harmless question, if a little odd.

"Love's Labour's Lost?" She answers uncertainly.

Miss Alameda smirks. "Not 'Romeo and Juliet'? They were the original star-crossed lovers, after all?"

"I'm more a fan of comedies." Madge replies.

"I thought it was hilarious."

They stare at each other for a long minute, each sizing the other up. After what seemed to be an eternity under the growing shade of the bakery awning, Miss Alameda sighs.

"You don't trust me." She states. "Wise of you. I wouldn't trust me either. I'm not to be trusted. You know why I'm here, you know my part, and you know how this story ends." She looks out over the street, at the handful of people milling about in the lowering sun, and grins. "Our story may be a tragedy, my dear, but that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun getting there."

#########################################

Madge trots along beside Miss Alameda as they make their way to the Seam. They garner more than their fair share of stares and Madge wishes more than she ever had that she could melt into the ground. She isn't that lucky.

People don't even bother trying to pretend they aren't gawking at them, talking about them.

Miss Alameda doesn't seem fazed. She smiles with her too white teeth and even stops to catch a wayward ball kicked accidentally by a group of boys.

"Watch it boys!" She cheerfully tells them as she tosses it back, coating her hands in a fine layer of coal dust and dirt in doing so.

The boys don't say thank you or make any motion of acknowledgment. They just stare.

Madge is concerned Miss Alameda might get offended and considers telling her the boys are mute, even though she thinks that's a laughable excuse. The Victor's smile only falters for a second, though, before she moves on and seems to forget the boys' blank stares.

After that some of the bolder people edge in.

"I'm a Victor, in from the Capitol. I'm here to prepare the family and friends of the Tributes for interviews. They'll be filmed soon." She tells one.

"Anyone who knows them is welcome to talk to me. I can't guarantee you'll make the cut, but we must try, mustn't we?" Her warm voice carries over a group of children.

She chats with Ripper the liquor seller for a few minutes then a gossipy hen of a woman for a few more before Madge hesitantly asks if they shouldn't hurry up a bit.

"You let the sister know I would be by?" It seems less of a question despite her inflection.

Madge falters. "Um…"

"Don't deny it. If our positions reversed that's what I would've done. I'm not mad. It happens all the time." She's dusting her hands off fruitlessly and looking up at the sky. Madge has never seen someone so unconcerned with anything in her life.

When they finally come to the Everdeen's house Miss Alameda has started doing a little dance to a song only she can hear. Madge wipes her sweaty palms on her school skirt before climbing the steps and knocking tentatively on the thin door.

It's quiet inside and Madge wonders whether or not anyone is even home when the door finally creeps open.

Prim peeks out, freshly scrubbed and wide eyed. Her mouth forms a small 'o' when she sees Madge.

"Hello, Prim."

Prim stares blankly before snapping out of her daze. "Madge!"

She pulls Madge into a hug before noticing the woman behind her. "Oh my."

Miss Alameda has already ascended the few steps up to the porch and is at Madge's side, hand out and grinning warmly.

"Phoebe Alameda, 67th Victor. Charmed, yes?"

Prim looks mortified. "Um…"

"Of course you are. Primrose, right?" She looks past Prim and smiles. "And you must be Valencia."

Mrs. Everdeen also looks newly cleaned as she stands in the dimly lit house just behind her youngest daughter and nods.

Then they stand, staring at each other, no one quite sure what to do, in horrible silence.

Madge finally can't take it.

"May we come in?"

###################################

Everyone comes out of their daze and Prim apologizes for the rudeness before ushering them in.

Madge notices it isn't just Prim and Mrs. Everdeen that have received scrubbings. The ever present coal dust has been dusted out and to a minimum. Every surface has been cleaned and straightened, no doubt in preparation for the Capitol guest. Prim settles them at the pitiful little dinner table, the faded wood still damp from cleaning. A single dull flower sits in a cracked vase at the center.

Miss Alameda sits and Madge notices for the first time she isn't wearing the blue dress she'd arrived in. Instead she's in dark grey. It almost matches her battered bag.

She pulls out her compact again and powders her nose before she turns to stare at Prim, examines her, for what feels like an eternity before she speaks.

"You must be so frightened." Her eyes, deep green, flicker from Prim to Mrs. Everdeen.

Prim looks as though she's sitting on pins and needles as she carefully whispers. "Yes."

Miss Alameda reaches out and pats Prim's hand gently. "You should be."

The color drains from Prim's face in a flash.

Madge feels her own heart drop out of her chest and Mrs. Everdeen looks as though she might faint.

Then Miss Alameda laughs.

"Oh come on now! You can't have expected to me to come in here and spit bacon and ice cream at you. That girl's in a lot of trouble." She pulls her bag into her lap and begins shuffling through files tucked deep in it, pulling out a thick pack and opening it in her lap.

Madge tries to look at it and is able to see a few pictures and messily scrawled notes before Miss Alameda shifts and takes away her view.

"Illegal hunting, trading…her school records are…well, let's not discuss those. I just pray she can read."

Prim makes a strangled noise but Miss Alameda holds up a hand and continues on.

"Brave, yes. Loyal, obviously. She's attractive enough. Unfortunately she has the personality of an agitated rattler." Miss Alameda sighs. "Not exactly a dream come true."

She shakes her hair out and taps the papers on the table to straighten them out.

"Well, let's get started."

##########################################

Miss Alameda prompts the Everdeens on every subject imaginable. She advises them on what stories to avoid (Hunting, School) and what ones to press forward.

"Your husband and you, your marriage was unconventional?" She asks when they begin discussing Mr. Everdeen.

Mrs. Everdeen looks uncomfortable. "Yes. Jude was from the Seam and I'm from Town. The two…don't generally mix."

Miss Alameda frowns. "Why not?"

Madge would've taken the people's staring at her over the profound silence that settles over the table.

"People from the Seam are…poor." Mrs. Everdeen explains painfully. "And people from Town are…well…better off."

Miss Alameda still looks confused. "Better off? Yes, better off, but they're not living lives of ease by any means. Surely you know that, Mrs. Everdeen?"

Madge bites her lip. "But things are easier in Town. It breeds resentment."

The Victor rolls her eyes. "Down trodden is down trodden. The Capitol sees you all as dirty, pitiful wretches, no matter where you're from. We are all equal in our inferiority in their minds." She sighs. "Whatever. Your husband. Please, go on."

They're finishing when Miss Alameda makes a face and pulls out another file. She flips it open and her eyes flitter over it.

"One more thing. I think we need to discuss this 'Gale Hawthorne'."

Prim's nose wrinkles up. "Discuss?"

Miss Alameda's eyebrows rise and she smiles politely. "Yes. Discuss. He and your sister spend an unusual amount of time together. The Capitol will want to know why. Now we know why, but telling them all that they're out in the woods committing high crimes is hardly something we want to do."

Mrs. Everdeen's face falls into severe wrinkles. "What do we do then?"

"Easiest thing? Kill the boy!" She looks around the table expectantly. She takes their horrified looks as a negative and sighs. "Okay. Fine. Plan B." She opens the file and lays it on the table. There's a picture of Gale and each member of his family in it as well as some school records and a handful of official looking documents. "This boy is unfortunately good looking and has a reputation to match. This won't play well with the People of the Capitol. They adore a good love story and the 'Star-crossed lovers of District Twelve' is the best they've had in forever. If they think-"

Before she can finish, though, the front door bangs open and the entire Hawthorne family spills in.

"Madge!" Posy bounds over and bounces into Madge's arms. "Did you bring me anything?"

The rest of the family greets her cheerfully, minus Gale, before noticing the brightly hued head of the Capitol visitor. Gob smacked, they only stare until Miss Alameda breaks the silence.

"Well, speak of the devil."

Gale has a look on his face, as though he's turned over a bucket and found slugs.

Miss Alameda stands and strides to them.

"Phoebe Alameda, 67th Victor. I'm here to prep for the interviews." She beams at them. "You must be Mrs. Hazelle Hawthorne." She then turns to each member of the family. "Rory, Vick, Gale, and" she turns back to face the little girl in Madge's lap, "Posy."

"You know our names!" Posy is awestruck. "Momma! The green hair girl from the television knows our names!"

Mrs. Hawthorne has an uneasy expression at this news.

"You're worried." Miss Alameda tilts her head. "Never a good sign when a government official knows every member of your family's name."

Gale steps closer to his mother, protectively.

Miss Alameda turns on her heels and goes back to her chair. "It's actually a good thing you arrived. I was about to go over some things that will concern you." She picks up her file and begins again.

"Where was I? Good looking boy, 'Star-crossed lovers', good story, blah, blah, blah, oh yes. As I was saying, if the Capitol gets wind that half of the dynamic duo isn't looking to keep the love alive, and may even have someone back home it won't bode well. Also, Sponsors will drop faster than cows in a drought, and I've been asked to keep that from happening. However, my main job is to make the Capitol happy. They're not happy, I'm not happy. Understand. And believe me, breaking up the 'Star-crossed lovers of District Twelve' would make them very, very unhappy."

Prim is wringing her hands. "What do we need to do?"

Miss Alameda stands and makes a sweeping gesture toward the Hawthornes.

"Honey, meet your new cousins."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

A/N: This story is complete, I'm just kinda lazy so it takes me some time to post it. I'm started on the second book, but considering it took me almost a year to originally write this one, it'll be a while after this is all up before that sees the light of day. I'll put up a chronology for my stories on my profile, because most of them are connected (though completely out of order), if anyone wants. I'll shut up now.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 7**

"We aren't cousins!"

Gale is an interesting shade of purple. Madge actually wonders if he might pop an artery.

"If I say you are, then you are. Do you understand?" Miss Alameda looks back at Gale with a pleasant expression.

"We aren't!"

"You will be."

"They'll know you're making it up!" He's taken a few steps toward her. If he'd been yelling at her, been taking those threatening steps toward her, Madge would be running. Miss Alameda, however, doesn't look even vaguely alarmed.

"They know what I tell them. I'll alter documents, make the changes that are needed, and they'll believe everything I tell them." She looks at her folder. "Now the upper echelons? They'll know the truth of course. No way around that. They want me to make the teeming masses happy, and _this_ is what is going to make that happen."

She pulls out her little compact and begins touching up her makeup again. Gale fumes.

"What if I don't go along?"

The compact snaps close and Miss Alameda's eyes settle on Gale.

"You will."

Gale makes a low, angry noise, and looks ready to pounce when Miss Alameda holds up her hand.

"Gale, may I call you Gale? I'm going to call you Gale. I am giving you a gift. You have something you want. You want Little Miss Crabby Pants home. I want to keep the people in the Capitol happy. These 'wants' aren't mutually exclusive." She's crosses her arms behind her back and saunters to the Everdeens' wall, examining a picture of Katniss' father. "I'll keep the Capitol entranced. I'll ensure they stay happy and _want _the girl home. All you have to do is _exactly what I say_." She spins on her heels. "See? Everyone's happy."

Madge wrinkles her nose. Miss Alameda doesn't care about Katniss or Peeta any further than to keep the Capitol happy, but she isn't necessarily going to hinder them. She prays Gale sees this.

He snorts derisively and her hopes are dashed.

"Go to hell."

Miss Alameda smirks. "I've already got an express ticket, honey."

He turns and heads for the door and Madge feels all her sudden hope slip away as she watches him reach for the door.

Something flies through the air. With a harsh ping a small dagger lodges in the door frame a scant few inches from Gale's right ear. Posy screams.

They all look at Miss Alameda. She's no longer the lightly chipper woman with the funny perma smile. Her demeanor is cold and her eyes have lost their warmth. She's narrowed her glare at Gale as she walks, purposefully, with hollow echoing step toward him. Her hand reaches up when she reaches him and yanks the dagger from the wood.

She points it at him as Madge, the Everdeens, and his family watch in horror.

"You reckless brat of a _boy_, Gale Hawthorne." She sneers and step within inches of him. Despite that she is at least a foot shorter than him she seems to overshadow him. Her voice is icy and even as she speaks. "Is that even a boys' name?"

She grabs him by the collar of his shirt and presses the flat edge of the blade against his cheek. "I am here to keep the greatest number of people safe. I do that by doing my job, by making the Capitol happy. If I feel as though something or _someone_ is going to hinder me, keep me from my goal, keep me from taking another round, then I will eliminate that hindrance." She lets go of his collar with a small, forceful shove. "You aren't the first, and I greatly doubt you'll be the last troublemaker I have to deal with. I'm not a Victor for nothing."

With that she pushes past him and reaches for the door.

"Mrs. Everdeen. Primrose. It's been a pleasure and I'll see you tomorrow with the team. I suggest you discuss this little disagreement with," she shot Gale a disdainful look, "_him._" She looks back. "Because if he isn't going to play, he isn't going to last long in our game."

Then she's gone, out the door, leaving the group standing in silent horror.

"Gale!" Mrs. Hawthorne finally manages to rumble out.

"You pissed off the Capitol woman!" Rory looks as though he isn't sure whether he wants to be impressed or frightened.

Prim turns her wide, panicked eyes to Madge, snapping her back into the moment.

"I'll fix it!" Madge yelps. "I'll fix it! I-I'll go talk to her." She grabs Prim by the shoulders and gives her a reassuring squeeze. As she dashes for the door she sees Vick's anxious face. "Don't worry. I'll make this right."

########################################

She doesn't look at Posy or Mrs. Hawthorne. She just bursts out the door and bounds down from the porch.

She's reached the gate when she hears her name.

"Magdalene, where are you going? You aren't gonna _leave_ me with these idiots, are you?"

Madge nearly trips over her own feet she spins so fast. Miss Alameda is sitting on a stump, petting Prim's goat, the chill gone from her persona. Madge finds she can only gape at her.

The green haired girl sighs as she stands and dusts herself off. "You'll catch flies you stay like that."

Madge's mouth snaps up. "Sorry. I just, I didn't think…"

Miss Alameda waves her hands impatiently as she brushes past Madge and heads down the road.

"Wait!" Madge squeaks and Miss Alameda stops and turns. She skitters over to the green haired girl and frantically begins trying to salvage the hope Gale had so quickly smashed.

"He didn't mean to offend you." She begins breathlessly. "He's just worried and he's not used to taking direction. He's been the provider for his family since his da-"

"_I don't care._" The coolness is back in her voice despite the reappearance of her fixed smile.

"But-"

"No." Miss Alameda shakes her head, green tendrils whip gently around her head. "I. Do. Not. Care. Don't care. At all."

Madge flounders. "But-please! You said it yourself! You have to help them! It's your job!"

"Making the Capitol happy is my job. That is my _only_ obligation. I can just as easily weave this into a sordid tale. Turn the tides. Mr. Abernathy has been getting a great deal of latitude from the Sponsors with how he doles out his funds, but trust me, if I want to, if I _choose_ to, I can rile them up. I can have them _demand_ he favor the boy. I've had years to perfect this art, Magdalene." She straightens her dress. "I _will_ assist Mrs. Everdeen and Primrose with the interviews, just like I said, but unless that brat of a boy gets his temper under control I will _not_ provide them with any further aid. The journalists will descend upon them and if he can't mind whatever little amount of manners he has, they'll have his ass in a sling." She narrows her eyes.

"They'll destroy him, his family, the Everdeens, his scowly girlfriend in the Arena, and I won't do a damn thing. I know when to cut my loses. Greatest good for the most people. Remember that. If it looks like his attitude is going to jeopardize more people than I can feasibly save I _will not_ hesitate to let him burn."

With that she turns and begins to trot off in the dying sun, leaving Madge standing hopelessly in the middle of the road.

"Wait!" Madge jogs up to her again. "Please, just let me go back and talk to him. Explain things better."

Miss Alameda smirks. "You think he'll listen to you better? Aren't you the eternal optimist."

Madge bites her lip. "Well…I don't know. Maybe. I just want to try. Maybe his mother or Prim can…"

"You try that." Miss Alameda smiles, it seems genuine. Then she turns and begins off again.

"Wait! It's getting late. It isn't safe to walk home alone."

"I'm sure Mrs. Hawthorne will insist one of her boys walk you home."

Madge frowns. "What about you?"

Miss Alameda smirks. "Oh honey, ain't a thing out here scarier than me."

##############################################

When Miss Alameda's green head dances out of sight Madge turns back to the house. It's still and quiet inside. She wonders if everyone is still standing in shock or if they've moved to sit.

She plucks up some courage and walks back up to it, onto the porch, and to the door. Her hand is up, halfway to knocking, when she hears the hisses of whispers. Straining, she tries to make them out.

"Can't do that…"

"Dangerous…"

"…trying to help…"

After several seconds she gets frustrated with the snippets and knocks, quickly quieting the soft noise.

Light steps creak across the floor inside and then the door opens a sliver. Prim's red rimmed eyes once again meet Madge.

"Oh Madge!"

The door swings open and Prim's eyes sweep behind the other girl, no doubt searching for the Capitol guest. Her face fills with tension when she doesn't find her.

"She's gone back to my house." Madge tells her. Prim's eyes widens with fear. "She's not-I mean, not really, mad. Well she _is_…can I come in?"

Prim nods and as soon as Madge is across the threshold she feels all the eyes in the room on her. She finds Gale, he looks miserable, but gives him as severe a look as she can muster.

"I know," he mutters before she can even say anything. He runs his hand through his already untidy hair then rubs his neck. She would find it endearing if she weren't so agitated.

"I hope you do." Madge fixes her face sternly. "Miss Alameda may not be the nicest person, not by a long shot, but she's doing a job that can help us. She doesn't have a horse in this race, which makes her about as impartial a person as we're likely to find."

She feels her face fall into a deep frown. "I know you don't like it. I understand that. It's unfair and more than a little ridiculous, but if she says it's going to help…I think we should listen."

"Why?" Gale looks up from the ground. Some of his defiance is back judging by his renewed scowl.

"Because," Madge begins slowly. "She's just trying to do her job. I know what her part is. I don't _trust _her by any means, but I'm willing to use her and her knowledge of how the Capitol works and thinks. I'll be wary of her, and you should be too, but you also have to keep yourself in check. She may not look like someone who's dangerous, but she is."

Mrs. Hawthorne, who is comforting Posy, nods solemnly. "That's exactly what I said. And if he loses his temper when those reporters get here…"

Prim has taken Gale's hand. "You have to keep yourself calm, Gale. Please"

His look softens and he nods before looking back to Madge. "I'll apologize."

"No." Madge shakes her head earning her confused looks from everyone. "Don't apologize. Just show her you're going to work for this. Do what needs to be done. She isn't going to want lip service, only action." He makes as if to question her logic so she cuts him off. "I know what I'm talking about." Or at least she hopes she does.

He looks skeptical, but when Vick takes his other hand and looks up at his big brother with those puppy dog eyes she knows he'll agree to act like less of a toddler.

###########################################

It's too late for Madge to make it home so she hesitantly takes a seat at the end of the sofa, and squishes herself up and tries to take up as little space as possible. Soon she finds Vick smashing into her left, smiling slightly up at her and mouthing the words 'thank you'. Though for what she isn't sure.

Then the program starts and hell breaks out.

There can be two. Two Victors. They can both come home.

Madge feels like she's underwater. Everything is muffled and distorted. Everyone is talking in low confused tones. Posy keeps asking 'what'. She's pulled from her confusion by Vick's voice.

"Can they do that? They can just change the rules like that?"

_Can they?_ Madge wonders. But of course they can. These are their Games. They can alter the rules any way they want. A certain amount of trepidation creeps into her mind though. Something about this bodes ominously to her.

"I suppose they just did." She finally answers.

"It's a trick." Gale still has his eyes on the screen showing the pair from Two's reaction.

Madge frowns because he's pinned words to her worry. It's too good to be true; a false prize that will be yanked away at the last minute.

The television suddenly switches to Katniss. Then she whispers the name. _Peeta._

It's almost funny how everyone looks at Gale, but tries desperately _not_ to look at Gale. He hasn't taken his eyes off the screen and his jaw tenses. Finally he lets out a long breathe and so does the room. He nods dimly as the screen switches to Peeta, with his glazed eyes and mud caked skin, and swallows hard.

Madge wishes she could open his head and see his thoughts, like the pictures on the television, and know what she needed to say to make this better for him.

Instead, as soon as the dramatic moment has passed and they've moved on to the color commentary, she stands to leave.

"I'll walk you home." Gale says before his mother has a chance to force him. Vick and Rory bounce up from their seats and are ready to run too when Gale shakes his head.

"I need to talk to Madge, and that…woman. Alone."

Vick stomps his foot and begins to protest when his mother cuts him off.

"He's right. He needs to make his amends with Miss Alameda and it'll be easier without an audience."

So Madge says her goodbyes and heads out with a silent Gale by her side.

Madge is use to silence. Her mother rarely talks. Her father is gone more often than not and is too exhausted to carry on long conversations. The less said to the house staff the better. No one spoke to her at school, not even Katniss really, except by necessity. She knew silence and background noise better than almost anything. She also knew when someone didn't want to _stay_ silent. It was louder than the hum of quiet, it was a scream that echoed, and Madge knew it because it was her default.

"Gale?"

He makes no acknowledgment, only stares ahead.

"Gale?" She bites her lip.

"I'm sorry."

He says it so quietly she almost misses it. He's still not even looking at her. She almost thinks she might've imagined it until he says it again.

"I'm sorry, Undersee." He sighs. "You aren't a bad person. You don't-I shouldn't take things out on you."

She wants to roll her eyes. "Just because your mother tells you to apologize doesn't mea-"

"Dammit, Undersee!" He growls. "I'm not apologizing because my moth-"

"Yes, you are." She huffs. "Gale Hawthorne doesn't apologize to anyone for any reason. It's practically your creed. Nothing short of your mother would get you to say anything half-way to not insulting to me of all people."

He stops and stares at her, eyes narrowed, and she can see he's building up for a fight.

"Cause I'm just some filthy brat from the Seam? Cause someone like me can't feel bad for acting like a jerk?"

"Because you are proud!" Madge nearly shouts.

Gale stares at her before snapping back. "And what's wrong with that?"

She shuts her eyes to blind herself to his stupidity. "Nothing if it's in proportion." She shakes her head. "There is such a thing as too much pride, though."

Before she can stop herself her words, her thoughts, spill out of her.

"Like with Vick. He wants to badly to contribute, but you won't let him. You're too proud to admit that he is capable of helping. You won't take he and Rory into the woods, won't even at least teach them basics of how they can help the family because you are too proud to admit that you might need help. I know you want them to stay children for as long as possible, but you and I both know that's just not an option, not forever. You would rather throw out perfectly good food, freely given, and with no expectation, than eat something grown by someone in town. I don't think you'd let your family starve rather than accept help, but I'm not totally certain."

She pokes him in the chest. "You don't apologize because you never feel like you're wrong. You get to be surly and hateful to people in Town because we committed the terrible sin of not being born in the Seam, not being utterly poor and miserable. You feel you get some kind of pass for your bad behavior because you're miserable. Like that gives you the moral high ground. Guess what, Gale, you don't have the monopoly on being bitter and resentful and unhappy. Just because we aren't all starving, aren't all fighting hunger and the elements, doesn't mean we aren't fighting something. Everyone has their own battles, and just because they're different doesn't make them any less real."

Then she takes in a gulp of air. She's breathless and Gale is apparently speechless. Or maybe he's just planning where in the woods he'll hide her body…

He's staring at her feet, and she thinks it might be a good idea to run before he takes out her ankles and hobbles her, when he chuckles.

"You are a piece of work. You know that, Undersee?" He rubs his neck. "But you aren't too far off the mark."

He looks up suddenly, stormy grey eyes catching her watching him, and smirks. "Normally I wouldn't feel wrong, but these times aren't normal, are they?" He takes a step forward and so Madge takes a step back. He chuckles again.

"You scared of me, Undersee?"

"I'm not stupid." She tells him flatly.

There's a flicker of something on his features, maybe hurt, but it's gone so quickly she can't fully place it.

"I wouldn't hurt a girl." He seems more offended by that nonexistent slight than her entire rant.

Madge instinctively reaches over and covers her wrist where he had grabbed her days before. His eyes flicker down to the healing bruise that wraps around just above her hand and his eyes widen fractionally.

He swallows hard and forces his gaze up while Madge keeps hers studiously on her feet.

"Shit, Undersee."

It's a whisper, an admonishment for himself. He knows exactly how her wrist got to that state.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

She finally meets his eyes and sees the painful sincerity.

"I know. It's okay." She wants to give him some kind of comfort, but she's at a loss. She uses the only thing she feels she's ever had any true command of, her words.

"You are strong, Gale. You are strong, and brave, and a good person. You are a survivor. But that's part of the problem. You know how to survive a very specific way and this, this that's going on right now, is outside of your scope. When I said it was a game what I meant is there are different types of surviving. Understanding people, getting people to like you, learning the ins and outs…they're a different set of skills, but no less important. You need to accept that maybe your pride is going to get in the way of helping Katniss. You may be the master hunter, but this isn't about hunting, this isn't about food, this is about being charming."

He laughs, full out, booming laughs. "Are you saying I'm not charming, Undersee?"

Madge gives him a dull once over. "Yeah. Sorry. Anything but."

###################################

The rest of the walk to Madge's house is less tense, they don't speak, though she can still sense something Gale wants or needs to say.

When they reach her back fence he stops and she gives him a curious look.

"What do I say to her? I mean…if I'm not suppose to out and out apologize."

Madge feels her mouth tug up into a small smile. "Just say you're willing to do whatever needs to be done."

His face is still etched with worry. "How do you know? That _that_ is what she wants to hear_?_Needs to hear?"

"Educated guess?" She offers. When he still frowns she sighs. "I don't have solid proof, and in this _game, arena,_ whatever you want to call it, you won't get a lot of solids. You won't get a guarantee. It's a lot of guesswork and just knowing people's personalities and habits and where they're from. It depends on people, and people aren't dependable. Everyone has different motives-wants, needs, obligations-and that makes it that much harder."

"What makes you think she doesn't want an apology?"

Madge bites her lip. "When I went after her she didn't want to hear excuses or an apology. She doesn't care about what you say, just action. She's going to do exactly what she says and she'll expect the same of others, whether it's us or the crew that's coming. She's not Capitol. She's from Ten, and Tens know their jobs and they understand that a breakdown at one point causes problems at other points. Everyone has a job to do, and you better damn well do yours. Mess up? Dust yourself off and get back to it. It isn't the fall that matters to them, it's the getting back up."

Gale gives a curt nod and opens the gate for her.

When they enter the house, Gale a bit hesitantly, they find Miss Alameda sitting at the kitchen counter flipping through what Madge recognizes as a family album. Madge's father is sipping on a cup of coffee across from her chuckling about something.

"I'm telling you, all these Districts are just rife with inbreeding. They all need genetics lessons."

Madge must make a face at that comment because when Miss Alameda looks up, at her, she snorts with laughter. She reaches across the tiled surface and hits Madge's father with the back of her hand and they share a knowing look and laugh a little more.

When Gale steps into view the levity drops. Miss Alameda's face morphs into a cool mask and she turns from the pair, back to the album.

"Uh, Miss Alameda?" Gale begins awkwardly. The woman in question's posture doesn't even resister she's been spoken to. Madge gives him an encouraging look despite the lack of response. "I, uh, I…" He's stumbling and Madge has to fight off the desire to step in.

"Whatever needs to be done. I'll do it."

Miss Alameda doesn't even look up from the album as she speaks. "No lip?"

Gale hasn't taken his eyes off her. "No."

The album snaps shut and the girl with the green hair has turned on her stool. She studies Gale for a moment. Despite his efforts at humility he's as intimidating as ever to Madge. His arms are crossed over his broad chest and his steely eyes are settled firmly on Miss Alameda.

Green lips pull up into an amused smile. Then she laughs.

"You've got a lot of fire, Dorothy. Best watch it though, or you'll burn to ash." She shakes her head. "Then what will you be? Nothing but a lost little boy with no fire, no fight, and no friend."

Her gaze shifts to Madge and she grins. "He should count it among his blessings he's got you; one of the few people in this forsaken District with any mental wherewithal."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 8**

"They won't both win." Miss Alameda is dancing around one of Madge's tomato plants humming what Madge assumes to be a popular tune in Capitol. "Pity."

Madge nods. They'd already guessed as much. Gale is quietly watching the flippant Victor and Madge imagines he's thinking of all kinds of scathing things to say to her for her unconcerned manner.

"You won't be going to school tomorrow." She pauses and blots out the moon with her thumb. "In fact, I'll want you and the rest of the family here bright and early. I've got to get you cleaned up and dressed presentably before the others wake up."

Madge frowns. "When will they arrive?"

"A little after midnight." Her father answers.

"It was Copernicus' birthday yesterday. They didn't want to leave until they'd properly celebrated it." Miss Alameda explains further, rolling her eyes and dropping her hand from the sky.

"You…aren't going to dress us like…" Gale seems to struggle with a non-offensive way to describe Capitol clothing.

"Like me?" She sweeps her hand over her silken gray dress, then up to her shimmering green locks. "No. They'll want to see the teeming masses of the Districts. Make themselves feel superior."

There's a tinge of disgust in her voice and for the first time Madge appreciates how hard it must be to live between the worlds of the District and the Capitol. Existing to both but belonging to neither. Not really.

She looks back to the sky and sighs. "Go home, Dorothy. Get some sleep and come prepared to keep that temper of yours under wraps. Cause these people may be idiots, but they're idiots that can crush you. Also to keep in mind: they aren't as forgiving as me."

Gale makes a face but doesn't comment.

He nods curtly to Madge's father then Madge before heading to the back gate.

Madge feels the need to see him off and escorts him to the gate.

"You did well, Gale." She gives him an encouraging smile. "Just…keep it up."

He nods with a confused look before turning. His hand is on the gate and Madge has started turning to leave when he says her name, stopping her in her tracks.

"Why…are you the way you are?"

When he sees the look on her face he clarifies. "I mean…why are you nice? To me, of all people."

The yellow from the porch light dances over his face, reflecting back from his gray eyes. She is momentarily reminded of the moon. Gale Hawthorne's eyes were every bit as unattainable and beautiful as that hopeless, pale satellite, and just like the moon, his eyes were filled with mysteries Madge will never have the chance to fully understand. She snaps out of her reverie, praying her blush is hidden in the shadows the porch light is surely casting her in.

"I've not been particularly nice." She mutters.

Gale rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Well…in comparison to how I treat you…I'd say you've always been pretty civil."

"I'll take that." She chuckles and gives him a small smile.

"Why, though?" He presses on. "You're even nice to my brothers. Vick told me…that you told him to give me a break, that I'm under a lot of stress. Why would you do that? You don't owe me that."

He's got his eyes focused on her, holding her gaze, and she feels the heat rising in her cheeks. She quickly averts her eyes.

How is she supposed to explain, make him understand, that she just doesn't have it in her to add to his, or anyone else's, misery? She knows what it is to have no one waiting for you to get home. She knows what it is to eat alone every night. To be ignored. To be insignificant. She wouldn't steal his happiness. Wouldn't degrade him to less than worthy of her notice. Not him, not anyone. She'd experience enough of that in her life; that no matter who it was, she couldn't do that, couldn't crush their soul like hers was so often.

"I…" She falters. "I don't know." Her eyes wander back to the moon. "I just…You're strong, a survivor, but even the strongest break if they are hit enough. I don't ever want to be the final hit, the one that causes the break, in anyone, least of all you."

He snorts. "Why least of all me?"

She smiles up to the sky. "You have so many people that depend on you. You have a family. You are so lucky, you are so cared for, and sometimes I don't think you really know that." Her eyes fall back on him and his confused expression. "Besides, who would bring my father strawberries if something were to happen to you?"

He laughs, really laughs. "Yeah. See you in the morning, Undersee."  
###################################

Miss Alameda sings into her hairbrush, screaming really. She dances around Madge's bed, barefoot, and wearing a dress of the most horrid shade of neon orange Madge has ever seen. Her green hair is filled with static and floating wildly around her head.

She had decided to use Madge's room to get ready so that she didn't disturb the Capitol guests. Considering her 'getting ready' involves belting out her own renditions of songs Madge had never heard, it seems to have been a wise decision.

Madge is already dressed and pressed. She feels she looks nice. Her dress is certainly plainer than Miss Alameda's and isn't threatening to burn anyone's corneas with its pale blue color, but it is pretty. She also feels too nervous to be tired despite the fact that the Capitol guests had been loud and rowdy downstairs for several hours after their arrival and she hadn't gotten any sleep and the sun isn't even up yet.

Perhaps because of the sleep deprivation she's feeling less than hopeful about the coming day. She can't shake the dark feeling that this whole production is simply an exercise in futility. Katniss and Peeta are doomed no matter how well things go, no matter how well behaved Gale is, or how bright all their smiles are. Her expression is dim, bordering on somber, and more than once Miss Alameda has told her to buck up.

"Come on, Sunshine." Miss Alameda jumps from the bed with a thud. She twirls "Cheer up! The others won't be up till noonish. We'll have ample time to make sure everyone is in tip top condition. No reason to be so glum."

But Madge was certain there was ample reason to be glum.

Once her green hair is pulled up into an enormous bun at the back of her head Miss Alameda beckons Madge from her slumped position next to her window and they make their way down to the kitchen.

Madge's father is waiting with his coffee in hand. His face isn't much more cheerful than Madge's.

Miss Alameda pours herself a cup then pulls out her compact and inspects her hair. When she's happy with it she snaps it shut and looks to Madge.

"What's the time, Magdalene?"

_Too damn early_. Madge thinks, but gives her the unholy, early hour instead.

"The Everdeens and Hawthornes should be here soon." She sips her coffee. "When we finish with them then we head over to the Mellarks."

Madge's father nods listlessly and makes a pained face.

"Oh it won't be that bad." Miss Alameda shoots him a look. "Look, maybe we'll get lucky and they'll both die today. Then everyone can go home and get back to their lives."

Madge chokes on her milk.

She looks at her father, but she knows he's thinking the same thing. Miss Alameda has a peculiar look on her face, as though she knows what Madge is thinking but doesn't quite know what to say to her.

She finally settles on: "It really would be for the best."

Biting her lip, Madge nods in resignation.

They decide to wait for the family in the garden, or, more appropriately, Miss Alameda decides they should wait in the garden. She's crouched down with Madge and her father, quietly plucking up weeds between the vegetables when a young voice calls over the fence to them.

"Good morning." Prim tentatively smiles. Mrs. Everdeen, too, looks tense.

Beside them are the Hawthornes all dressed in their nicest clothes. Mrs. Hawthorne seems strained and has a hand on Gale's forearm. Vick and Rory are pale in the morning light, worry etched onto their young faces. Gale is holding a still sleeping Posy and looking more stressed than Madge had ever seen him. Madge has the sudden impression she isn't the only one who didn't get much sleep last night. Either Gale didn't assure his family that all was at least smoothed out between he and Miss Alameda or they weren't sure of the veracity of his words.

Miss Alameda pops up, dusting her hands off in front of herself. She fixes a perfunctory, toothy smile on her face.

"Salutations, friends!"

#####################

Apparently the nicest clothes in District Twelve were too pathetic even for Miss Alameda's purposes. She quickly had every member of the 'family' changed.

"This shirt is itchy!" Vick complains as he tugs at the collar of the very expensive, very heavily starched, royal blue colored shirt he'd been given to wear for the interviews. Rory nods his agreement enthusiastically.

"They suck, boys. I'm sorry. But they look good on television and they go well with your coloring." Miss Alameda tells them over her shoulder.

The entire group was being given an overhaul. Miss Alameda enlisted Madge's help in picking outfits and determining hair styles, so Madge is able to help keep most of it tame considering it is all Capitol couture.

Mrs. Everdeen is helping Mrs. Hawthorne fix her hair, twirling it up into an intricate braid like Katniss had worn for the Reaping. Madge has a sudden pang of jealously. Her mother had never been well enough to fix her hair.

She shakes off the thought and scolds herself for it.

"I don't mean to be…well, unappreciative or doubtful of your abilities." Mrs. Hawthorne winces as Mrs. Everdeen tugs on her hair. "But shouldn't you have a team to help you with all this?"

Miss Alameda freezes. She stares down at Mrs. Hawthorne's hand, which she's manicuring, and frowns to herself. Then she snaps back to the moment.

Her answer is clipped. "I haven't got one anymore."

Gale looks to Madge with a frown then looks back at the back of Miss Alameda's head. "What do you mean, you haven't got one anymore?"

She turns so quickly and so quietly Madge misses the action. She's giving Gale that chilly look, a look that plainly says to drop it. "I mean, I haven't got one anymore."

With that she turns back and continues with the manicure.

Madge gives Gale a look to tell him to quiet and mercifully he seems to catch on because he goes back to cleaning under his nails with the special tool Miss Alameda had given him. Slowly Madge turns her attention to Posy who is twirling around in her new dress that she's convinced is from Madge.

It's pink, horribly pink, and has frills along the bottom. Madge has a particular aversion to the color, only wears it because her mother likes it, and so apparently did Miss Alameda, who had audibly gagged when she passed the dress to them, but Posy loves it. Madge pulls the girl to her lap and begins to try and comb her hair out and pull it into pig tails per Miss Alameda's instructions.

"You aren't very good at that." Gale chuckles as he watches Madge struggle with Posy's unruly hair.

"In my defense, I haven't got anyone to practice on." Madge huffs slightly as she inspects her less than wonderful work. It's lopsided.

Gale leans over and pulls Posy into his lap. His deft fingers quickly put his sister's hair right. Posy reaches up and runs her small hands over the smoothness then smiles. "Thank you, Gale and Miss Madge."

"I really didn't do much." Madge mumbles, but she's pleased Posy still feels like she's owed a 'thank you'.

Gale is smiling so brightly at his sister Madge feels another pang of jealously that she'll never have a sister or brother to learn things with, to protect and be protected by, to share life with…she bats away that thought too. She forces a smile onto her lips.

"Well don't you look like a…big stick of bubbleicious." Miss Alameda makes a pained face as she looks Posy over.

Posy stands and makes a little curtsy and the woman curtsies back.

Miss Alameda turns and looks everyone over. The brothers are all in matching black slacks, but while Vick and Rory are in royal blue Gale is wearing a deep grey Madge had helped pick out from the mass of clothes Miss Alameda conjured from her room. Mrs. Hawthorne has donned a dress of a very soft material, pale lavender in color. Prim is in a soft baby blue dress, like Posy's it has frills but is still less childish looking. Mrs. Everdeen has been given what Madge considers the nicest outfit. It's pale yellow, like a candle's flame, and has some odd fluffiness to it, filling back in her missing curves.

An unusually serious look fixes on Miss Alameda's face. "Alright y'all." She takes a seat on the sofa between Vick and Rory and straightens out her skirt before pulling out her compact. She gives it a curious look before smiling and puckering her lips and rubbing on some lipstick.

"You will all stay calm. No matter how crappy a question they throw at you, you will not lose your temper." She gives Gale a pointed look. "You will answer questions as succinctly as poss-"

"What's suck-sink?" Rory asks. Vick looks puzzled as well.

"Use as few a words as possible." Madge explains.

"Yeah." Miss Alameda agrees. "Like I've already told Mrs. Everdeen and Primrose, steer clear of any and all allusions to her extracurricular activit-"

"What?" Vick and Rory say almost together.

"Don't talk about her hunting or trading." Madge quietly clarifies.

"Also, no mention of the illiteracy."

"She isn't illiterate." Madge tells her through gritted teeth.

"Who says I was talking about just her, honey?" Miss Alameda's green lips stretch wide over her perfect teeth mockingly.

###############################

"Do you think she's insane?" Vick asks Madge as they stand out on the back porch.

They'd all been kicked out of the house so Miss Alameda could 'stage' the room to her liking. Gale is carrying a once more sleeping Posy in the grass around the garden and talking softly with Prim. Mrs. Hawthorne and Mrs. Everdeen share the bench swing and Rory is sitting on the topmost step.

Vick once again tugs on his collar and Madge has to swat his hand away before he musses his perfectly coifed hair. He giggles at her.

"I don't think she's insane." Madge tells him quietly. She softly sits down, cross legged, and looks up at him. "I _know_she is."

Rory snorts as he pulls at _his_ collar.

"You still think we need to use her judgment though?" Mrs. Everdeen clasps her hands tightly they blanch.

Madge nods solemnly. She prays she's reading the signs right.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 9**

Miss Alameda had promptly gone up to wake the reporters at ten forty-five with a screeching horn and a loud round of swears Madge had never even heard of before. Just as she had promised, they were down when she said they would be.

Madge stays at the back of the room when the reporters swoop down at noon. They're all glitter and sparkles, vibrant colors, feathers and fur…

Miss Alameda looks positively dull in comparison.

There's a particularly horrible man, with white, spiked hair and too tanned skin stretched taut over his face, that watches her with his unnaturally colored eyes of silver. Madge makes a concerted effort not to get too close to him, but he's apparently made it his goal to edge toward her every chance he gets.

"Magdalene, that's right isn't it?" He asks her once he's worked his way slowly, like a slithering snake, to her.

Madge nods mutely.

"Quite the lovely name for a lovely young woman." He takes a lock of her hair between his fingers and twirls it idly. Madge tries not to cringe, forcing a pleasant smile onto her face and racing through her mind for a way out of situation.

"Egard."

He turns an Madge is relieved to see Miss Alameda behind him. She's got her false smile on, though it's strained, her teeth are clearly gritted. In one smooth movement she places herself between the snake man and Madge.

"Didn't we discuss this last year?"

His tight lips stretch over his teeth. "Of course," he tilts his head, "but she just so reminds me of my favorite. You remember her don't you?"

Miss Alameda answers coolly. "I'm afraid I don't. You've had so very many since I've known you." She points toward a woman in a frightful shade of silver. "Your sister wants you."

He smirks, clearly happy with himself for whatever reason, and leaves. Miss Alameda leans with her back to the wall next to Madge.

"Egard Glaive. You'll want to stay away from that one." She nods unnecessarily to the man. "Piece of work. He and his sister both."

They watch silently as Egard and his sister lean in close, uncomfortably so, and whisper something before looking back at Madge and Miss Alameda.

Miss Alameda raises a hand, waving at them, and grits her teeth. "Swine."

Madge nearly chokes while trying to keep from laughing.

"Well…there isn't a word for what they are. Creeps, freaks, horrid, but I hate pigs so it's the best I feel to crown them with." She lets her eyes wander over to where Prim is being asked a series of boring questions while the rest of the 'family' is being forced to sit with painful smiles plastered on their faces around her.

"I was trying to get away, but I just couldn't." Madge frowns down at her hands. She whispers, almost afraid of the answer, "What did he mean, I remind him of his 'favorite'?"

The smile drops from green lips and for a moment Miss Alameda looks like the young girl from her Tribute photo. Her nose wrinkles up and there is a flicker of fear in her eyes and Madge knows she's doing some quick thinking.

"Nothing. He's a jerk. He's a creep." She grins as though nothing has happened. Madge knows better than to press the subject, but she files away the moment for further inspection in the back of her mind.

"Also, I wouldn't let Evlyne get near you with anything sharp and pointy, hon."

She jerks away from the wall and saunters over to the interview. They've moved on and are just talking to Mrs. Everdeen alone by a window. Mrs. Hawthorne has corralled her younger brood in the corner while they wait to see if they'll be needed further. Prim is with Gale and Miss Alameda so Madge pushes off from her wall and goes to them with the hope of keeping Gale and Miss Alameda from coming to blows over something stupid.

"I did terrible." Prim bites her lip and wrings her hands weakly.

"Terribly," Miss Alameda corrects. "You can't have done 'terrible'. 'Terrible' what? It's an adjective and so it has to modif-" She stops at the looks Prim and Gale are both giving her, huffing. "Oh, never mind."

She pats Prim on the shoulder and mutters a few words of encouragement before going over to monitor Mrs. Everdeen.

"Do you think I did, er, okay?" Prim asks tentatively.

"You did great." Gale gives her shoulder a squeeze. "They'll love you."

Her worried eyes flicker over to Madge who nods her agreement. "You did really well, Prim. Gale's right, they'll love you. They'll be beating themselves up to sponsor Katniss."

They turn and anxiously listen to the reporters with Mrs. Everdeen. Several times Miss Alameda cuts the questions off, usually ones regarding the possibility of duel winners, because she hasn't had the time to prep them on answers.

"You don't want some watery blather." She tells the visibly upset reporters for the millionth time. "They need time to formulate a thoughtful, well articulated response."

Which to Madge meant the Victor needed time to think about the response.

After an eternity they finally leave for the Mellarks'. Madge is given a reprieve when her father comes back from the Justice Building looking a little pale.

"Went well?" He quietly asks Madge as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter.

She nods. She isn't quite sure what else to say about the interview. Stressful, but mercifully uneventful. She's grateful most of the attention was focused on Mrs. Everdeen and Prim this go round and not the Hawthornes.

Vick pops his head in the room. He's back in his own clothes and looks much more comfortable.

"Where do we put this stuff?" He holds up his dress clothes with a look of utter disgust.

"Oh, um…" Madge bites her lip and racks her brain.

"I believe Miss Alameda will want them in her room for safe keeping." Her father smiles tightly.

Madge follows Vick back to the sitting area where the family waits, all looking uncomfortable and out of place in the still pristine room.

"I'll take them." She quietly tells them as she stacks the clothes in a pile and attempts to pick them up. It proves to be a futile task as she drops several of the surprisingly heavy items and nearly trips over one of the dresses.

"I'll help." Vick begins snatching up some of the wayward articles. Rory piles shoes in his arms. Even Gale, surprisingly, pitches in, taking the bulk of the garments from Madge's arms.

She takes them up the stairs as quietly as she can since her mother is, once again, sleeping the day away. It proves to be an impossible task with two young boys.

"Stop stepping on me Rory!" Vick angrily whispers.

"I'm not trying to! Walk faster!"

"Stop it the both of you!" Gale's voice carries more than either of his siblings'.

Madge turns and gives them all a glare, quieting them.

She takes them to the end of the hall, stopping just short of her own room, and gently opens the door.

If it weren't for the stacks of trunks and assorted luggage in the corner Madge would've thought the room was unoccupied. The bed looked as perfectly made as the day before and through the bathroom door she could see that none of the amenities had been touched.

"Just put it on the bed." She finally decides.

"What's all this?" Rory points to the floor beside the bed opposite them.

It's a lump of blankets and a mushy pillow. They've been messily wadded up and half stuffed under the bed.

Madge frowns. "She must not like the bed."

Gale makes a face. "Why not?"

Rory and Vick both look puzzled as well. Madge is clueless though. She tells them just to leave the things on the bed and begins to rush them out when her mother appears in the doorway. She has a few of Madge's old dresses clutched to her chest.

"Where did the little girl go?" She asks, eyes vaguely sweeping the room.

"What little girl, mom?" Madge asks as she takes her by the arm. _Is she hallucinating?_

Her mother smiles emptily at Gale. "He knows her. That girl with grass on her head said she'd come. I remembered…I remembered you said you'd promised her dresses, love. So I found them this morning…waited for those awful people to go…"

She's drifted off again and Madge takes the dresses from her. "Thank you, mom."

She wishes she could be happy that her mother recalled that conversation that seemed so long ago, but she's too busy being mortified that her mother is once again in her flimsy nightgown and acting mad as a March hare.

Madge keeps her eyes on her mother, unwilling to look at Gale and see a glare of disdain for the fragile Mayor's wife. She tries to steer her mother from the room as quickly as possible.

"Those are for Posy?" Rory asks.

Before Madge can stop her, her mother has turned back to the boys with a dim smile. "The little girl?"

Vick walks over to her and takes her hand. "Do you want to come give them to her yourself?"


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 10**

AN: Some pretty dark things are implied about practices done in another District during this chapter. It's just a small part, but I want to warn people. The people of Panem seem to have a somewhat basic, very incomplete education. I think the government would keep them held down not just with force but with institutionalized ignorance. They probably, at least in my mind, would embrace some very backward practices that in this day and age are known to be completely incorrect, but that they don't have the knowledge to turn down. I hope that all made sense.

Madge isn't certain how her mother is going to react to all the stimulation of a room full of what are essentially strangers.

When Posy squeals and throws herself on the dresses Madge's mother flinches and Madge is certain it's going to dissolve from there.

But then her father comes in and her mother relaxes next to him and it all seems to go well.

"It's been a long time Matilda." Mrs. Everdeen, who looks like a pillar of strength compared to Madge's mother, gently speaks to her old school friend.

"Has it?" Honestly Madge's mother probably doesn't know. She oscillates between remembering details, like Madge's conversation about the dresses for Posy, and not knowing day from night. "I suppose." She gives Posy a soft look. "Do you like the dresses?"

"Yes, ma'am." Posy answers dutifully.

Madge smiles as the little girl gingerly runs her hands over the dresses. They're simple little things, blue, pink, and purple, with very little frilliness. Mrs. Hawthorne will no doubt have to hem them; they're probably a size or two too big for Posy at this point.

"You're Prim." She mutters as she passes over Prim with her eyes. "The girl whose sister saved her."

Tears begin to fill her eyes and Madge knows the brief calm has passed.

"I think you should go back upstairs, dear." Her father murmurs as he pulls her to her feet. Tears are already beginning to fall.

As if fate is working against them, and Madge sometimes believed it had a particular dislike of all of District Twelve, Miss Alameda strolled back in.

"That went swimmingly!" She looks genuinely pleased with herself. Her eyebrows arch skyward when she sees Madge's mother and father. "What're you doing outta bed, crazycakes?"

Madge's mother's lip trembles and tears begin to fall harder. Madge's father gives Miss Alameda a dark look as he ushers his wife out. Madge is livid and it takes every ounce of self control she has not to reach out and deck the girl. "Why would yo-"

"You're a witch." Gale suddenly growls.

"Tell me something I don't know, Dorothy." Miss Alameda rolls her eyes.

Madge stares at Gale, flabbergasted. Touched that he is seemingly defending her mother and irritated that he's once again picking a fight with someone he ought not. For the moment, though, Miss Alameda doesn't seem all that upset about his attitude.

"You didn't have to call her crazy." He continues, pointedly ignoring all the looks he's getting.

"But she is." Miss Alameda grins. "She's lucky she's crazy in Twelve, though. If this was Ten she'd have had an accident long ago."

If looks could kill Madge was certain there would be one very dead Miss Alameda on the ground. Gale glares daggers at the woman for a few moments longer when Madge's father comes back down the stairs. He gives Madge a small smile, letting her know her mother isn't as bad off as she seemed, then frowns at Miss Alameda.

"This District has made you soft," she sneers.

"And yours has made you hard."

A smile flickers across her face. "That's why _I'm_ a Victor, Mayor Undersee."

########################################

"What did she mean?" Vick asks as he takes Madge's hand. She's decided to walk them back to their house in the Seam rather than stay and listen to the reporters and Miss Alameda rapidly give editing details for their footage to some faceless voice in District Three.

"About having an accident?" He clarifies.

Madge has remained quiet since the incident. She doesn't want to discuss her mad mother or her fate if she lived in another District. She doesn't to see pity or disgust in any of their eyes for her. She's pathetic and she knows it, but she doesn't need that confirmed by anyone else.

She isn't certain how to answer his question. Not that she doesn't know the answer, but how do you explain such a thing to a nine year old?

"I'm a little curious too." Mrs. Everdeen adds in. It's then that Madge notices all eyes on her.

She swallows down the bile that comes up in her throat. "I don't think you really want to know."

"I think we do." Gale says sharply. "We're putting a lot of faith in your guesses. I think you owe it to us to explain at least a few things."

That she does.

With a sigh she pinches the bridge of her nose. She makes sure Posy is too engrossed in her new dresses to hear.

"Ten is the biggest District, right?" She looks around for acknowledgment and is greeted with nods. "Yet, in proportion to the size of the District the population is relatively small. Why is that?"

"Accidents?" Rory offers uncertainly.

"Exactly."

"It didn't sound like accident accidents." Gale fixes her in a stare and Madge quickly focuses on the ground.

"There is a high mortality, yes, because of the nature of the work they do. Livestock can be unpredictable and many of them are out in the weather. The wranglers and their families for instance. My father told me about the conditions in the processing plants once. Everyone works in Ten. Everyone. It kills a lot of them." She takes a breath. "They want the strongest stock. Hearty workers who can work long and hard. They're very…herd minded. They treat everyone like the animals they raise. Does that make sense?"

Judging by the blank stares it doesn't.

Madge takes her hand back from Vick and rubs her palms together.

"They have their own ways of weeding out undesirable traits in their population." Prim's nose wrinkles at this and Madge sighs. "If someone has a child and they determine that it won't be helpful, useful to the population…they make it go away. Rather than let it drag the resources down, they get rid of it. Then they sterilize the parents so they can't produce anymore 'bad' offspring." She takes another deep breath. "If my mother were in District Ten they would have labeled her with some kind of defect."

Being terribly sad wasn't an excuse in some Districts.

"She might've disappeared in the night and turned up in a pond after a few days." Her eyes flicker up to the clear blue sky. "There are a lot of unexplained drownings in District Ten."

Prim makes a noise, a sharp intake of breath. "That's awful."

"That's how they are." Madge tells her matter-of-factly.

The rest of the walk is uncomfortably silent. Only the birds and the insects seem interested in contributing to the background noise.

################################

Madge stays at the Everdeens' for what's left of the day.

The interviews won't air until the following day and she has no desire to listen to Miss Alameda and the reporters patch the Mellarks' and Everdeens' words into a Capitol-worthy mess nor hear their opinions on the events of the day's Game. She plays a game of tag with Vick and Posy (Rory firmly tells them he's too old for such foolishness), then they help Prim feed her goat, an act which ends with part of Madge's dress being eaten and Prim apologizing profusely.

"I can try to mend it!" She tells Madge tearfully, biting her lip.

Madge shakes her head with a laugh. "It's fine. I'm sure I can manage it. It's hardly a complete loss."

She knows better than to say that it's a knock-around dress. Better than to say she was planning on throwing the tattered thing away because it was getting a shade too thin and only wore it out in anticipation of getting it filthy. She knows what Gale's response to that would be and doesn't want to spoil the afternoon rowing over her privileged status.

When the sun starts getting low in the sky, painting it a brilliant sunset orange, she realizes she needs to get home.

"Do you really have to go, Madge?" Posy asks, jutting out her bottom lip.

Madge giggles, "Yes, my mother and father would be worried if I didn't. They might miss me."

Vick takes her hand, "I'll walk you home."

He's pulling her toward the gate when Gale snatches him up and tosses him over his shoulder. Vick struggles violently, thrashing around and grunting at his brother. "Put me down! Mom! Tell him to put me down!"

"You aren't being very nice Vicky," Gale chastises him as he flips him back in front of him, holding him in backwards bear hug. "You've played all day with Madge. You need to stay home and get your bath done."

Vick is red in the face, though whether from the scuffle with Gale or from embarrassment Madge isn't sure.

"I'll take a bath when I get home!" He tells Gale through gritted teeth.

"What is going on out here?" Mrs. Hawthorne emerges from the Everdeen house with her hands on her hips. She shoots Gale and Vick a look.

"Gale was just keeping Vick from walking his _girlfriend_home," Rory tells her with a satisfied smirk.

Vick makes a strangled noise and Posy huffs in confusion. "Vick's too little to be Madge's boyfriend."

Prim turns to Madge and is clearly trying to keep from dissolving into giggles. She mouths the word '_Boys'_ and rolls her eyes. Madge covers her mouth to hid her grin; she would hate for Vick to think she was enjoying his embarrassment.

"Yes, Posy, he is. Gale, put him down. Vick, you need to stay home so we can get your bath done. Rory, stop teasing your brother or I will put an end to your escorting the Hendridge girl home after school."

Rory makes a disgusted face at his mother and Gale puts Vick back on the ground. Vick gives Gale a hard glare before turning to his mother. "I just took a bath this morning!"

Mrs. Hawthorne gives him a withered look, eyes focusing on his now muddy pants and the goat pen dust clinging to his hair. "And you've played very hard today so you get another. Say goodbye to Madge."

His shoulders sag as he mutters, "Bye, Madge."

He gives her a sad little look as she waves her goodbye to him and everyone else.

She's two houses down when she hears feet padding after her. When she turns she finds Gale, tousle headed from the wind, jogging after her. She gives him a confused look.

"Figured I'd walk you home. Hate for my brother's girl to get lost in the Seam."

"Won't you miss your bath?" She asks him with a smirk.

"I didn't play in the goat pen all day."

She sniffs and pulls a face, "Could've fooled me."

Then he laughs. It's the second time in two days she's heard him really laugh and she's beginning to like the sound.

He walks beside her, seemingly at ease, asking her for her honest opinion of the interviews. Apparently he and his mother both felt she might've held back for Prim and Mrs. Everdeen's sake. She reassures him that, no, she didn't hold back.

"False hope isn't useful. I could never be that cruel, to bait them with something like that."

He seems to appreciate the honesty.

They discuss the horrid manners of the Capitol reporters and their nauseating clothing. She tells him how they had nearly destroyed the front sitting room upon their arrival because they were so strung out from the birthday party they attended in the Capitol before coming to Twelve. He asked her about the snake man, Egard, and she tells him about Miss Alameda's warning.

He rubs the back of his neck, "Hate to say it, but if the witch is against him you probably really should keep an eye out."

Madge nods, "Yeah, he gave me a…bad, really bad, feeling."

"He tries anything, anything, you let me know."

"And what _exactly_are you going to do about it?" She asks half jokingly.

Gale's face has darkened. "You just let me know."

She knows he would like nothing better than to have a reason to go at a Capitol citizen and so she knows that, no matter how crude Egard the snake is, she'll never tell Gale.

##################################

The reporters are in hysterics, throwing themselves around, some fainting and making shrill, inhuman noises when Madge arrives. It's too much for her, she can't make out what any of them are saying other than that at some point during the day, or evening, she can't tell with them, Katniss and Peeta reunited. A small miracle, she knows.

She decides to make herself as small as possible. She can't go to her room for fear of seeming rude and so she's hiding in the kitchen, a place the reporters rarely ever go excepting in dire situations. She's certain she's safe from the worst of it when she hears the door open and the familiar click of Capitol heels on the tile.

Turning she finds Miss Alameda staring at the door.

"Is…everything okay?"

She glances over her shoulder with an annoyed flip of her hair.

"Peachy."

_Okay_. Madge frowns at her back.

How Peeta and Katniss being together has made things any worse, Madge doesn't know, but it's the only explanation for Miss Alameda's newly sour mood. She turns, fully facing Madge, her expression grim. Then, in a blink, she's got her hand out, snapping her fingers at Madge and gesturing for her to come.

"I think the excitement is done for the night. Let's go for a walk."

Before Madge can protest she's been pulled out the door and down the porch steps. They're in the garden, the back porch light isn't even on, so only the moon illuminates their way. She releases Madge's arm, pulls out her compact forcefully then snaps it shut before she begins pacing, muttering and making little hand gestures to herself as she maneuvers between the tomato plants.

Madge stands back and watches; praying the Victor hasn't lost what little sanity she barely had and decided to kill the little Mayor's daughter.

Abruptly, she stops and looks up, squinting at the house then down to the ground. In the pale light her hair doesn't look the unnatural moss color and her complexion isn't as washed out. Her clothes even appear more tamed. She looks more like the little girl from her victory photo than Madge had yet seen her.

"They can't both win."

She isn't saying it to Madge really, more to herself. She's wringing her hands fretfully as she shakes her head and bites her lip.

"Of course not," Madge still offers.

"But they want them to, and I've never, _never_, seen them like this," Miss Alameda glances furtively back to the still raucous house. "They want _two victors_," she looks to Madge, wide eyes and thin lips, "and they always get what they want."

Madge frowns, "You said they won't let them both win."

"They won't," she nods. "They'll let it go to the very end…maybe, but they won't let it happen. They have a vested interest in it never happening." A thoughtful look crosses over her face. "The teasing though…this could be it."

"Could be _what_?" Madge groans.

"The fuel. The spark. The beginning of the end."

###############################

Madge and Miss Alameda sat in the garden until the small hours of the morning discussing the possibilities.

The Victor was cautiously optimistic about what Katniss or Peeta's victory could mean. It would provide the traction needed to have the coup so many apparently often thought about. The Capitol not getting what the Capitol wanted was unheard of…just as the possibility of two Victors was completely out of the question. Either the Capitol would upset its citizens or it would change its rules; neither pleasant possibilities.

"Two Victors would prove they can be manipulated, even by the lowliest of us. They won't stand for it." Miss Alameda's face is shadowed, making her smile more wicked than usual. "It'll be ugly, either way. We'll be the ones to pay." She sighs, "I would rather them upset the Capitol citizenry."

"Why?"

The other girl doesn't answer for a long moment. She's watching a firefly warily, a peculiar look on her face, but she finally shakes her head and finds the moment.

"One Victor, one idiot if they're anything like the rest of us, will be easier to deal with than two." She tears a leaf in half, "Plus, it introduces fewer variables. Two is twice the family, twice the emotional baggage, twice the hassle."

Madge nods, "And you'd rather it be Peeta?"

Miss Alameda nods. There's a sad smile on her face.

"He's clever. He's quick. He's charismatic. He's the one making this all possible, not that dratted girl. She's just a piece of the Game. He's a player." She tosses the shredded leaf over her shoulder, "But she's the one Mr. Abernathy wants, and she'll be the one he gets. He's the one doling gifts. In the end, it'll be his choice. God help us if it comes to it."

It turns Madge's stomach. Peeta is going to be sacrificed for Katniss' victory. Though she knows it's what he would want, she still has an uneasy feeling about it. Mr. Abernathy, Miss Alameda, any and all the people they've got on their side, they're all playing with fire, and it's only a matter of time before they all burn.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 11**

AN: Warning, Gale is a real jerk in this chapter, super mean, sorry. He's very angry, stressed out, and scared. Not that that excuses him, but it explains why he's being so awful to Madge. And Madge is way too forgiving. I know that, and I'm sorry about it, but she's just one of those people that lets people off the hook when they apologize if she feels it's sincere, at least in these stories. They're in the middle of a very intense situation and that brings out the best and worst of people, and unfortunately, in Gale's case, it's bringing out the worst. Again, I'm sorry.

Madge doesn't watch the family interviews the next day. She just can't bring herself to see how it's been edited.

She only knows about the Feast and Katniss' drugging Peeta through the tittering Capitolites that have overtaken her home. They're beside themselves with excitement, though Madge is only able to catch snatches of conversations and piece together what's happened. Watching the Games with them is unthinkable.

They seem to fester out of every conceivable nook and cranny available. She even catches Egard and his horrid sister in her room at one point, looking through her belongings as if they were wares in a shop.

Her father is always away at his office, two Tributes doing so well, coming so far, has added to his workload. He's fielding questions, crossing t's and dotting i's, protecting the District as best he can, no matter how little that is.

The staff is beside themselves trying to keep up with the reporters' demands, which are outlandish and impractical. Water must be boiled for bathing twice daily. Their wardrobe changes create enough laundry to occupy every laundress in Twelve, but is only entrusted to the Undersees' haggard one and her daughter. Almost every article has a different way it must be washed. Everything must be pressed. They hate the food, they hate the wine, they hate the beer, they hate the scenery…

Her mother has locked herself away in her room. The shades are drawn. She hasn't eaten anything since before the reporters arrived. She barely flinches when they start an IV to rehydrate her. Madge can only sigh, an IV at least makes giving her the morphling easier.

She can't face the Everdeens or the Hawthornes.

She hadn't imagined Katniss would risk herself for Peeta's sake. Never, not in a million years, would she have believed _that_ would happen.

Not that she thought Katniss heartless or unfeeling. It was simply that, well, she couldn't fathom Katniss risking her life, her chance to come home, her sister's wellbeing (which hinged on Katniss almost exclusively) for a boy she'd barely acknowledged before the Reaping.

Madge knew she has steered them wrong. For all her assurances about Peeta's ability to play the Game, to bolster Katniss, she hadn't factored in Katniss' own actions. Katniss was a constant. She was set on survive. There hadn't been a reason to consider her a variable.

Clearly, that had been a poor assumption.

So she sits, hidden behind the kitchen island, listening to the color commentary as it floats over her from the sitting room.

"Never would have expected help from Eleven's Tribute…"

"The knife work from Clove was marvelous!"

"Best in years!"

"Guess we won't get a love story from District Two!"

Miss Alameda knocked the door shut with a swift kick of her foot, muffling the television.

"That's better!" She says cheerfully.

She bounces back to the sink and continues disarticulating a grotesque looking animal that will be served at dinner.

Though she still wasn't fully trusting of the Victor, Madge has found her to be less grating since their talk in the garden. They're similar in so many ways; ostracized and more than a bit lonely.

Green hair whips as Miss Alameda begins jerking her head back and forth in a violent dance as she sings to herself.

"You're going to hurt yourself," Madge warns her from the floor.

She pauses to grin down at her, "Not likely."

Then she begins thrashing about again. Her mood had taken a definite upturn when Katniss was injured by Clove, the little terror from Two, who'd subsequently been killed by Thresh from Eleven. Katniss' death would destroy the possibility of duel winners, freeing up the Capitol to revert to the old rules without incident. Peeta would more than likely die as well, but Miss Alameda felt it was a reasonable sacrifice to make to keep things from 'flying straight to Hades in winged shoes'.

She was willing to exist in the status quo for simplicity's sake.

"But what about the changes you talked about?" Madge had asked her that afternoon back in the garden, looking for vegetables for a stew.

"I shouldn't have gotten worked up," she'd waved it off. "It happens every few years. 'Reaping Madness', that's what Ivan, one of Nine's oldest, calls it. We get all in a tizzy about some runt from the poorer Districts and we forget the reality of our situation." She'd tossed an onion over her shoulder. "And that reality is: no Katniss Everdeen, no Peeta Mellark, no Johanna Mason…no dumb kid just trying to survive is going to be our saving grace. We. Are. Screwed."

The sharpness of her voice was punctuated by tugs at the tops of onions. A gloomy thought slipped out of Madge.

"Were you…were you one of those dumb kids?"

It was reasonable, to Madge anyways, that maybe Miss Alameda's bitterness was born of her own failure. She'd just snorted through her nose, amused.

"Me? Not even close. I wasn't even supposed to win. If Titus hadn't gone all cannibal on them, he'd have won." Her mouth twisted up in a rueful smile. "I'm one of their biggest mistakes. Biggest disappointments."

The next day was the worst yet.

She woke late, tired from helping the staff keep up with the increasingly bizarre requests of their guests. One of the Capitol men had passed out in her bathroom and she and Miss Alameda had to pull him into his room by his feet. She'd been sent to fetch more cupcakes from the Mellarks and managed to drop two dozen of them trying to get up the back steps…

When she finally was able to tend to herself she was past exhausted, until she went to her room.

Egard was on her bed, her underwear drawer upturned next to him, the contents strewn across her bed. He had one of her bras in his hands, examining it. She's too shocked to even speak.

He finally looks up at her lazily.

"Oh, Magdalene, I didn't get to properly look through it the other day."

She almost asks him what he thinks he's doing, but she doesn't want to know. Instead she sputters, "Please leave."

His pale eyes flicker from her to her bra then down to a pile of her panties. He tuts.

"You are far too pretty a girl to wear such plain undergarments." His thin lips smirk, "If you were mine I'd buy you all the finest lingerie in the Capitol. You so remind me of my favorite."

Madge's stomach churns and she fights the urge to run out the door. But this is her room.

She fixes a stern expression on her face before marching to him and snatching her bra out of his hands. "Please leave."

He doesn't so much as budge.

"Get out, Egard."

Miss Alameda is in the doorway, arms crossed, the light from the hall casting her in frightening shadows. Egard draws in a breath and the two stare each other down in what Madge decides is a familiar sort of way, she wonders how many times the two have done this dance. Finally, Egard stands and brushes past Madge, his hands skimming over the fabric of her skirt as he does so.

"So rude," she hears him tell Miss Alameda as he passes her.

Once he's gone, down the hall with light steps, Miss Alameda crosses the threshold and shuts the door.

"You need to start securing your room," she tells Madge without preamble.

Madge shakes her head as she begins refolding her underwear and putting back in the drawer.

"Did you hear me?" The Victor asks, a panicked edge to her normally light voice.

"There aren't any locks on the bedroom doors," Madge tells her offhandedly. She has to get her things put away. Anyone could see them thrown out in the open…

"Magdalene!" Miss Alameda grabs her by the shoulders.

They stare at each other for several long seconds before Miss Alameda's hands drop. She looks at the mess on Madge's bed then reaches over and begins folding.

"Get a chair, push it up against the door, under the handle. Or push your dresser against it. That's what I do."

Madge nods. She's finally registering what she's being told.

"None of the Mayor's homes have locks. Took them all off ages ago. Some kind of hostage situation, or so they say."

Madge looks over at her, green hair still in perfect ringlets, and wonders how many children she's watched die, how many families she's had to prep, how many Mayor's children she's had to protect from the wandering hands and eyes of Capitol guests.

"Thank you," Madge finally says.

She packs some of the leftovers up, the guests never want to eat the same thing two days in a row, and head for the Everdeens'. Staying at the house, with Egard isn't an option for the time being. Plus she hasn't been able to see the Everdeens or the Hawthornes since the afternoon of the interviews.

When Prim answers the door she knows it was a mistake, she should have just locked herself in her room.

The television is on, Katniss and Peeta are in a small screen to the corner while Claudius and Caesar carry on about something or another and show clips from Prim and Mrs. Everdeen's interview.

Rory is reading in the corner with Posy asleep on his shoulder and Vick curled up at his feet. Mrs. Everdeen has her worn hands wrapped around a cup of what looks to be tea and Mrs. Hawthorne is tending to a kettle on the stove. Gale is conspicuously absent.

"Hello, Madge," Prim greets her quietly.

Madge feels her forced cheerful exterior melt, "What's wrong?"

She's pulled in, basket and all, and dragged to the table.

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Mrs. Hawthorne asks as she takes the seat next to her.

Madge shakes her head, "_What's wrong?_"

From what she could tell the Games weren't falling apart, granted, she had only caught the snippets from the guests and a glance here and there. Despite Miss Alameda thinking either one, or both, Katniss and Peeta would die, Madge still felt guiltily optimistic.

"Haven't you seen?" Prim asks, worrying her lip.

"I've been chasing toddlers in adult sized bodies. I barely get near the television."

Mrs. Everdeen is watching the broadcast, Madge didn't think she was even listening until she speaks, "Katniss and Peeta kissed."

That stops Madge's thoughts.

_How is that-oh._ She suddenly remembers Gale's hulking absence.

Her heart sinks to her feet. A dull ache forms in her chest, in the empty spot her heart had suddenly evacuated.

_Oh, Gale…_

It's clear to everyone he loves Katniss, except maybe Katniss herself. Madge doesn't imagine she could ever know what he's going through, years of masking any and all concern for the sake of her family and the District have dulled her emotions. She's certain she'll never have as acute, as deep, a feelings as Gale seems so capable of.

"He can't go out," Mrs. Hawthorne adds.

Of course not, though. The District's fickle electricity was working like a charm since the Capitol guests arrived. The fence would be up, electrified, caging Gale in.

It's a small consolation, but Madge gives them a weak smile, "They're loving it."

She smoothes out her skirt, picks at a nonexistent bit of fuzz, before continuing. "They've been unbearable, but they're really loving the Games. They say it's the best one in years. Since the 65th, with Finnick Odair."

Prim's pale lips finally twitch up, just a hair.

"That's why they got the food?"

Mrs. Hawthorne's gray eyes flicker to Madge, wanting confirmation.

Madge wishes she had seen, wishes she could be certain, but if the food came, coincided with the kissing, then that's a good indication. Mr. Abernathy is clever, cleverer than most, she thinks. He'd know how someone like Katniss' mind works, he was from the Seam too, after all.

"I would think so, yes," Madge finally decides.

She comforts Prim and Mrs. Everdeen for an hour more before deciding to leave. She doesn't want Posy and Vick to wake up and delay her, then for Vick want to walk her home. So she bids them goodbye and quickly exits the door.

Her feet have barely carried her past the side of the house when she spots Gale, sitting on a crumbling stump just outside the goat pen. He's passing sprigs of grass to the little creature as it strains on the rope keeping it from wandering off.

Madge watches him for a minute, not sure if she should say something, but then, she thinks sadly, what could she possibly say that would make any of this better?

Pulling her eyes away from him, she takes off.

She's only a reached the end of the row, started to turn the corner to the alley Vick had shown her, when she hears someone's feet chasing after her.

_Please don't be Vick_. She thinks. She doesn't want him to try to walk her home and have to return in the dark.

When she turns, though, it isn't Vick, but Gale jogging after her.

She waits for him to catch up, which with his long legs, only takes a few seconds.

"Avoiding me, Undersee?"

She hadn't been, not really, she simply wanted to avoid what she felt she'd have to tell him.

She shakes her head.

"You were," he sneers. "Didn't think I could handle talking to you?"

He's trying to pick a fight, and she knows it. He's hurt, angry and trapped and alone, and Madge is an easy mark, a safe target for all his frustration.

She turns to leave, she won't be his emotional punching bag. At least not today.

Before she can take off he catches her arm, right above her elbow.

"Let me go, Gale."

"Talk to me, Undersee," his tone is low, almost a growl. "Tell me how kissing him is all a part of this 'Game'"

Her eyes narrow and she settles her features into the calm mask she'd learned to use with irritated Capitolites and shop owners ages ago.

"They're eating it up, Gale. This is their bread and butter. A love story under duress? They couldn't be happier. It's winning them, both of them, sponsors. It's what won them the food, the sleeping medici-"

"Which she wouldn't need if it weren't for him!" He snaps. "She would be making it just fine without _him_."

"You don't know that," she counters. For all they know, for all anyone but the Gamemakers and some of the highest ranking members of Capitol society, Katniss would be dead if not for the desire of the Capitol citizenry to see the 'Star Crossed Lovers' reunited.

His face is inches from hers; she can see the beginnings of the five-o'clock shadow on his chin and jaw, dark and coarse.

"She's playing the Game. She's getting it."

"She's risking her life for _him_!"

Jealousy isn't pretty, and on Gale it's painfully ugly. His jaw is clenched and his hair is a mess, his eyes are slightly bloodshot. Madge wonders if he's been crying.

His grip on her arm tightens.

"Gale," she flinches. "Gale, you're hurting me."

"He's hurting her."

He's losing control, he'd lost control, had the moment Katniss volunteered, and he's desperately trying to take some of it back. Madge's heart is racing. All the things she's ever feared about the Seam, about being caught alone, about men with strong hands and too much anger come flooding her senses.

But this is Gale. Gale won't hurt her. She won't let him.

Before she knows what's happening his lips are on hers. It's rough and messy. She can almost taste the bitterness on his tongue as he runs it along her teeth. He's mad at the Capitol, Katniss, Peeta, the world, and Madge is the one receiving the punishment.

This isn't how she wanted her first kiss to taste.

"Gale!" She shouts as she pushes him away.

His eyes refocus, like a waking child, and for the first time since he'd caught up with her, he seems to see her. He looks at his hand, pressing painfully into her upper arm, she'll likely have a livid bruise come morning, and releases her.

"Und-Madge," the color has drained from his face.

Before she has a chance to turn and run, hide from him, he's grabbed her again. It's different this time, gentler, begging for forgiveness.

He pulls her against his chest, tightly, almost too tight, his hand pressing against her hair. She's acutely aware of his warm breath skimming down over her ears and to the exposed part of her shoulders. The neck of her shirt must have shifted during their fight.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, his lips in her hair. There's a little stutter in her chest.

Her arm throbs and her lips are sore; she hates him a little bit in that moment. Somehow he knows that she won't hurt him back, that she just _can't_, and she doesn't quite know why.

She also knows he really is sorry.

She nods into his chest and feels wetness on her cheek. At first she thinks it's his sweat, a thought that doesn't distress her as much as she wishes it did, but then she realizes her other cheek is wet as well. She's crying. Again. Damn that.

They stand like that, Madge with her arms pinned awkwardly between she and Gale's chests, in the middle of the alley for what feels like an eternity. She can hear his heart, feel his breath, smell him, all earth and sweat and wind.

Finally his arms loosen and she takes a step back, keeping her eyes on the ground.

"I need to get home."

The sun has sunken lower, the crest of the sky has turned a harsh purple, much longer and the lights in town will be on.

"I'll walk you home."

"No," she shakes her head and she sees a flicker of hurt in his eyes. Embarrassment.

"Your family is worried about you." She doesn't know why, but she reaches out and pats his arm, her fingers graze the dark hair on them before she pulls back, as if stuck by lightening. "Go home. Let them know you're okay. I can take care of myself."

She always had, after all.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 12**

Miss Alameda and the guests had gone around Town in Madge's absence. They interviewed the list of Peeta's friends and, somehow the little Victor had managed to wander a way into the Seam and interview the old woman Ripper she'd met the first day and another woman named Greasy Sae. They apparently knew, _know_ she corrected herself, Katniss.

"Don't worry, they aren't as dim as they look," Miss Alameda reassured her as they stood in the back yard. "Hold their tongue better than Dorothy, anyways."

She's started a small fire and placed an enormous pot over it and is stirring a horrible looking concoction in it. Madge gags when the wind shifts and she catches a whiff.

"Not a fan of crawfish?" She asks as she begins working at pulling the basket the little creatures are in from the water. "Me either, but I make them every year. You bite off their heads and suck out their insides. I find it highly appropriate for the Games, don't you?"

Madge follows Miss Alameda into the house, with the intention of heading upstairs, brushing her teeth, and showering. She wants the taste and scent of Gale off her as soon as possible.

Miss Alameda seems to sense her weary mood, though.

"What's the matter?" She catches Madge's chin between her thumb and forefingers and examines her tear streaked cheeks. Her dark eyes flicker upstairs and Madge immediately knows what she's thinking.

"It wasn't _him_," Madge assures her.

"Who then?"

Madge sighs. She is emotionally spent after this day, and wants nothing more than to sleep and pretend its been nothing but a bad dream.

The little woman is having none of it.

"No one. I'm just sad."

Miss Alameda narrows her eyes, "Lies are my stock and trade. I know them when I see them. So you either tell me or I find out on my own."

It's a terrible idea, Madge knows it, to bare her heart to someone who admits her job is to crush it.

But it's so tempting. Tempting to have someone to listen, to care, to maybe understand and explain it to Madge herself what's going on with her when Gale is around…

But it's an awful idea. Madge simply shrugs before turning to leave and wonders how long before Miss Alameda discovers the reason for Madge's tears.

######################################

The next day Madge, Miss Alameda, and the bevy of guests set out for more film of Katniss' family.

She doesn't want to go, doesn't want to face Gale and whatever state he's in today. Katniss and Peeta had a cozy time, as far as the television showed, and she knows it's only going to worsen his mood.

Madge also wishes she could've warned them, but Miss Alameda and the guests were as unpredictable as the wind. She simply didn't know what to expect of them.

She lags at the back of the group, trailing them as they filter through the Seam and remark on the sorry state of everything and the endless supply of coal dust that coats everywhere.

"Just filthy!"

"Oh, aren't they just pathetic?!"

"Pitiful little creatures!"

They flutter around in their too high heels and vibrant clothes and take pictures. The squalor and misery of life in the lowest parts of District Twelve is nothing more than a morbid sort of vacation for them.

Miss Alameda wrinkles her nose at them, but doesn't seem to have the authority to put a stop to their little displays. She seems to only be able to usher them along, herd them like cattle toward their destination.

The only time she seems to be able to exert any control over them is when Egard and his sister corner a pair of children, a little boy and girl, probably siblings, and she pushes them away and quickly sends the kids off before having what looked to be a heated conversation with the Capitol siblings.

When they finally reach the Everdeen house Madge wonders if any of the guests even remember why they came out in the first place.

"Oh, look, a goat," one of the women, skin dyed vermilion, tittered. "Must make you feel like you're at home, Pheebs?" Her too full lips pull up into what she must think is a smile, "Should we build a blockade to keep you from him?"

Miss Alameda looks highly unamused.

"Cordia, dear, I worked pigs, that is a female goat, and if my memory serves me correctly, and I think we'll find it does, I'm not the one who was involved in the great 'Pancake incident' in District Nine."

The woman, Cordia, fades in color and shuffles to the background of the group. Several of the guests pull flasks from their purses and shirts and take drinks. Miss Alameda gives them a little bow.

Prim's eyes widen when she sees the gaggle of unnaturally hued Capitolites, all grinning madly at her from behind Miss Alameda, after she opens the door.

They push their way in, tripping over loose boards and getting distracted by the sunlight that squeezes through the gaps in the roof. They examine the stove, the chairs, the table, and the ancient television, as if they'd never seen such things.

"So quaint!"

"Practically antiques!"

Prim's cat hisses at them when they try to pet it. One of them hisses back.

Gordon, one of the cameramen, begins opening windows, and Vivette, the interviewer who Madge thinks is a bit of a lush, starts shuffling chairs and seating for the Everdeens. Miss Alameda picks up the cat and watches, seemingly content to let things fall as they may until one of the guests does something needing her intervention.

She gestures with her green head for Prim and Mrs. Everdeen to step outside with her, Madge follows after them. She strokes the cat for a few moments longer before setting him down and pulling out her compact, checking her appearance quickly. It snaps shut and she looks over at the Everdeens calmly.

"When they ask about duel winners you tell them you're very excited about the possibility of being a part of such a historic event." Miss Alameda picks the cat up again and Madge can hear him purring. "When they ask about the romance, you tell them how excited you are. Sorry, but your sister doesn't have dozens of suitors knocking themselves over for her, so the thought that someone as darling as Peeta Mellark would be so devoted to her is just more than you could hope for." She scratches under the cat's jaw, "You want them both home, you understand?"

Neither one of the Everdeens, nor Madge, really do, but they nod dutifully anyway.

##############################

"And how do you feel about your sister's romance?" Vivette asks. She glitters and sparkles, jingles when she moves, like the bell Madge's grandfather had over his door at their family's candy shop.

"Oh," Prim looks to Miss Alameda who simply smiles.

"I'm very excited," she recites. "I-Peeta is such a wonderful boy. I just-I really can't wait to meet him."

Madge catches what she thinks is a reflection on the glass in the window, but it turns out to be Gale who has wisely chosen to stay outside. He makes a gesture for Madge to come outside.

She considers ignoring it, but then he would only stay there and she doesn't want the guests to see, start in on him as well without any prepping, so she sneaks out onto the porch, just out of their view.

She's still wary of him. She keeps a healthy distance between the two of them and he seems to notice.

"I'm sorry," he begins. "About yesterday, I-"

With a forceful shake of her head she cuts him off, "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," he drags his hand through his dusty hair. It settles at his neck and he fixes her in a heavy look and her stomach flips. She wishes he wouldn't do that to her. "I shouldn't have done that. It was-I just-I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She just wants to forget it. Forget the taste and the smell and that he only kissed her because he was so _angry._ She wants to forget that she had wished, as she'd brushed her teeth, that it had been gentler, something kinder, a first kiss she didn't want to bury in the backyard under her tomato plants and never think of again.

"No, it's not." He shakes his head, "My dad would've kill me for treating you like that. My mom too."

If his dad were alive though, Madge thinks, so would Katniss'. If they were alive then, maybe, none of this would be happening.

Hypothetical lives and existences are pointless, though, and she hates when she builds them up.

"I forgive you, Gale." She forces a smile for him. He has enough to worry about without her bruised feelings to consider.

He looks like he'll argue, his hands clench unconsciously, then he sighs.

"How's the arm?"

Madge had wrapped her opposite hand over it without thinking. The sleeve of her shirt was long enough to cover the bruise that had formed.

"Fine," she answers automatically.

He doesn't believe her, she can see the skepticism on his face, but he lets it go.

"So, what's all this?" He gestures to the circus that has become the Everdeen house.

Madge explains quickly their need for more filler footage and tells him that he should leave, and quickly.

"You won't like their line of questioning."

Gale's eyes darken at that and he nods. He jumps from the porch and turns.

"Posy and Vick are upset you didn't wake them up." His eyes flicker up a little, "Especially Vick."

He jerks his head in what she assumes is the direction of his house, "Maybe you can come by later and see them?"

It's an olive branch. Madge has already accepted his apology, but he still feels the need to extend it. Part of her feels a measure of satisfaction at that. He should feel guilty. The larger part of her, though, aches. She doesn't want him feeling badly about her.

So she nods, "Maybe."

##########################################

When they finally finish with the interviews the sun is low in the sky.

Madge considers not going to the Hawthornes', but something about Gale's look, that stupidly sweet smile she knows isn't really for her, pulls her to it.

She's about to sneak off, mentally reciting the address she remembers Vick had told her what felt like ages ago, when someone catches her wrist.

"And where are you going, darling Magdalene?"

Egard, with his thin lips and taut, orange tanned skin has her trapped behind the Everdeen house. He pushes her back to the wall of the house, the weathered wood digs into her back and she feels splinters catching in her skin.

"You weren't thinking of running off on us, were you? Not very nice."

His free hand comes up before she can answer and covers her mouth. She struggles for a moment, then his foot comes down and traps her feet, keeps her from kneeing him as she intended. He tuts.

"Not very nice at all."

He smells of perfume, sweet and sickening to Madge, unnatural, like everything about him.

Egard bends his neck and begins nipping at Madge's ear, flickering his tongue, and she pushes against him. He seems to enjoy the struggle because he laughs slightly.

If she could just get her arm free she could punch him, break his nose

Madge is preparing for the worst, he's just too strong for her, stronger than she would've expected. His hot breath is across her face, then, in an instant, it's gone.

He's down, on his back, arms flailing and cursing loudly.

"Egard! We missed you!"

Miss Alameda is standing over him a wicked grin on her green lips.

He sputters and grumbles before rolling over and huffing off. The smile slips off Miss Alameda's face.

"Okay?"

Madge's mind is still working through what just happened when she feels hands on her shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

Madge nods, but it's only reactionary. Miss Alameda nods back, though why, Madge isn't certain.

"If you're going to the Hawthornes' you'd better get a move on." She frowns, "That boy better be a gentleman and walk you home, especially after yesterday."

Without thinking, Madge nods again and heads off.

It isn't until she'd out of view of the Everdeen house that she registers what the Victor had said.

#################################

It takes her a little longer than she'd expected to get to the Hawthorne house. It's as dilapidated as every other house in the Seam, but somehow Madge thinks it seems warmer, more like a home than hers has ever been.

"Madge!" Vick and Posy are on her the moment the door opens.

Mrs. Hawthorne gives her a tight smile and Rory waves. Gale comes up from behind her.

"What happened to your dress?"

Gale's rough hands are tracing something on her back. Snags and miniscule rips in the back where she'd been up against the Everdeen house.

She thinks quickly.

"I fell," she laughs. "I tripped at the Everdeens'. Backed up and fell over one of the bags with the camera equipment in it."

Better to be clumsy than assaulted for the second day in a row.

Gale narrows his eyes, not really believing her story. Then Vick lifts the sleeve of her bruised arm.

"What happened to your arm?" He looks horrorstruck as he examines it.

_I didn't realize this was going to be an interrogation._

"I got stuck," she lies again. "One of them dropped some rings down the drain and I was trying to help get them out."

Madge knows nothing about plumbing, but she hopes her arm could feasibly fit down a drain, and if it wouldn't she hopes none of the Hawthornes know that.

"You've had an unlucky few days," Mrs. Hawthorne comments. She's too shrewd a woman, knows more than she lets on, Madge realizes.

_Must be where Vick gets it._

Gale ushers her, his hand is just resting on the smallest part of her back, to the table. He pulls out the chair for her and she sit across from his mother.

"How did the interviews go?" She asks.

Madge shrugs, "Miss Alameda guided them through, so well enough."

She takes a moment and looks around the house. Small, too small for five people, but comfy. She can smell food cooking and sees it's some of the leftovers she'd given Prim the day before. Everything is worn and a little ragged, but clean as could be expected and functional.

Posy crawls back into her lap and begins showing her a drawing she'd just finished. Vick vies for her attention, he's missed her and makes no secret that she's _his_friend, not Posy's, while telling her about a very exciting game of kickball he'd helped win.

Madge is starting to calm, the frayed nerves from earlier are cooling, when Rory shouts.

On the television the culmination of the fight that had apparently been going on most of the day between Cato and Thresh was airing.

It was bloody. Posy whimpered and clambered to Gale, burying her face in his chest. Rory and Vick kept turning away and ducking into their mother, who'd taken the seat on the couch between them. Madge just stood behind the couch and watched.

She was glad she had missed most of the battle, she isn't sure she could've stomached it. Watching Cato slash and Thresh snarl and punch for nearly an hour was more than enough for her. Why this seemingly epic battle between an underdog District and a District perennial winner wasn't mandatory viewing she could only guess.

The editing wasn't as crisp, it wasn't looped as long as Rue's death, though she imagined it had been long enough as it was. It was anticlimactic, at least to Madge's critical eye.

When it was over, Thresh was dead.

Madge is grateful, in that moment, that she hadn't seen any of the family interviews. Knowing more about the giant from District Eleven would've only made his death that much worse, and she had neither the time nor the energy to devote to mourning another life lost too early.

When it's over his face is projected over the arena and they cut to Katniss and Peeta.

Madge begins to edge out.

"I should get home."

Gale hands Posy back to his mother, she'd cried herself to sleep in Gale's arms, and starts toward Madge. Rory stays at his mother's side, but Vick is up and dashing to the door in a blink.

"You stay home, Vick," Gale tells him. He doesn't smile or joke. He isn't being blunt, just firm.

Vick begins to protest.

"But why? I wanna walk her home. You did it last time and then she didn't come visit for ages."

Madge thinks she sees a little color rise in Gale's face, his complexion hides his embarrassment well.

"She was busy. That isn't my fault." He sighs, probably thinking it's lucky his actions yesterday didn't drive her farther away. "I need to talk to Madge, okay."

#################################

Madge can see the stars more clearly here in the Seam than she could even from her backyard, even from her little garden. She wonders about the astronauts and the telescopes, some might still be up in the inky sky somewhere. Maybe not, maybe it never happened. She hopes it did, though.

Crickets chirp and Madge can hear Gale breathing next to her as they walk toward her house, gravel crunching under their feet.

"Thanks," Gale finally speaks. "For not, uh, saying anything to them."

About her arm. About the kiss. His behavior the day before. He should know she wouldn't, couldn't.

She nods.

"I really am sorry." He's stopped. Madge feels pressure on her hand and looks down and realizes it's because he's taken it, is holding it gently in his.

His eyes are glassy, the stars are points of light reflected in them. She's aware, too aware, of how coarse his palm is, she can feel the calluses and catches in the skin easily. That makes her think of his lips. Chapped and warm, and, damn it, why is she thinking about that?

_If he kisses me again, if it's better this time, I'll never brush my teeth again._She mentally shakes herself. _No, that's disgusting._

He doesn't kiss her though, just squeezes her fingers, his large thumb grazing over the joints of her too smooth knuckles, before dropping her hand and jerking his head in the direction of the town.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 13**

Her house is ablaze with light when they arrive. Music, something wild from the Capitol, shakes the windows and doors in their frames.

Madge wonders how her mother is taking it all. Mrs. Oberst probably had the physician drug her into oblivion before she left for home.

Gale stops at the gate and glares up at the back porch.

Miss Alameda is perched on the uppermost step, an enormous bird between her legs. She's in a ragged looking set of pants and a filthy shirt, has a rough looking set of gloves on as she plucks the feathers from the creature.

Madge gags as they approach her.

"Turkey?" Gale frowns at it.

Miss Alameda doesn't even look up at him, just grunts an affirmative and continues plucking. She stops after a few minutes and wipes her brow.

"Are we playing nice today, Dorothy?"

Gale's eyes widen and flicker to Madge.

"Oh, don't look at her. She's nothing if not too sweet to turn your worthless hide over to me." She grins up, her lips are still green despite the wardrobe change, "I can find out anything I want."

The screen door behind her opens and, to Madge's horror, Egard steps out. He's in a long robe, why he's ready for bed at this hour she can't imagine, the guests don't even entertain the idea of sleep until the very earliest of morning.

"Oh, Magdalene, don't you know you lie with pigs you get fleas." He smirks at Gale in his ratty shirt and threadbare pants, eyeing them with distain.

"It's lie with _dogs_ and get fleas you idiot. You lie with _pigs_ you'll get filthy." She glares at him, "I should know, I worked pigs."

Her green lips flicker up into a grin, "And if anyone lies with you they'll likely get a round of industrial strength antibiotics."

Gale chokes trying not to laugh and Madge slaps him on the back.

Egard's pale eyes narrow at the two of them briefly before darting back to Miss Alameda, who'd gone back to plucking her turkey.

"I received a transmission. My sister and I are heading back to the Capitol early tomorrow morning. Our business partner is in dire need of our assistance it seems." He glares at her, as though it's her fault they're being called back.

"I'm sure you can talk with Plutarch and get at least a partial refund," she tells him, dropping a handful of feathers off the side of the porch.

"He'd better." He gives the surroundings a dark look, "I'll be glad to be rid of this place anyway. Making my sister act oddly."

"Odder?" Miss Alameda offers with a small smile, all earnestness. "Maybe she's pregnant again? Antibiotics decrease the effectiveness of birth control you know."

He snorts, a harsh breath through his nostrils, before storming back into the house.

Madge waits a minute before voicing the question itching in her mind.

"What'll he get a refund for?"

For the first time since she'd arrived Miss Alameda looks genuinely baffled. "For the trip, of course."

Gale's arms cross over his chest, "Trip?"

She tilts her head, "The trip here. You didn't think all those idiots were reporters, did you?" The looks on their faces must tell her they did and she laughs, "Every year they raffle off trips to the Final Eights' home Districts. It's a field trip. A _vacation_." She wrinkles her nose, "Egard and Evlyn Glaive are the descendants of a former District Two Victor that married into Capitol life. They are richer than this entire District and they use their limitless means to further their enjoyment of the Games by going out to see the pathetic droves the potential Victor has risen from."

Madge feels foolish for not having realized it.

"This is just a vacation for them?" Gale growls. His eyes are narrowed as they flicker momentarily to Madge then to Miss Alameda

"Would you expect any less?"

The outrage is about to boil over in him, Madge can see it in the way his hands clench and his jaw tightens.

She shakes as she places her hand on his forearm. He doesn't seem to notice it until she gives it a small squeeze, rubs her thumb along the edge of his muscle.

As he looks at her she prays her silent warning makes it to him.

_She's just telling you a fact. Please don't pick a fight with her._

To her relief he catches it. He simply sighs and glares for a few moments longer at the oblivious Victor.

"I'm glad you came, Dorothy. Tell your family their presence is requested for tomorrow night here for dinner." She stands and shakes the now naked turkey a little; some bits of fluff fall to the ground. "They want some candids and they don't want to go back into the 'Seam'. So they want the Everdeens and their extended family to come here."

Her still highly made-up eyes look to Gale, expectant of a fight. He looks at Madge and her stomach flops, she realizes she's still holding his arm and quickly let's go.

"Fine," he finally rumbles.

###############################

Egard and his sister are gone when Madge wakes.

She pushes the chest from in front of her door and wonders if she should continue to do it even though he's gone. Then one of them comes banging drunkenly on her bathroom door while she's showering and she decides that, yes, she probably should.

Miss Alameda is up, had apparently been up for several hours, when Madge makes it down to the kitchen. The turkey is in the oven and Mrs. Oberst, in an obscenely good mood, is humming again, cheerfully thanking the Victor for her help with dinner.

"And thank you so much for letting me off early," she beams.

Madge should thank Miss Alameda, really, Mrs. Oberst hadn't been in such a good mood ever, to Madge's recollection.

Madge is given the job of peeling, boiling, and mashing the potatoes. Then making ice cream, at least ten different flavors, by her count.

By the time the evening rolls around she has no desire to eat any of the delicacies she's helped with.

She's filthy, cream and milk are smeared on her shirt along with juice from several different berries. Pecan chunks are lodged under her nails. Bits of mashed potato are dried in her hair and she's got a fine layer of butter grease over her entire body.

She isn't thinking when she opens the back door, doesn't even know what time it is really, expecting more food for the dinner.

The Hawthornes and the Everdeens stare at her from the back porch, through the screen.

Madge's hand automatically shoots to her hair, it's a nest, grimy and greasy and unkempt looking. She can feel her face beginning to blaze when she sees a grin forming on Gale's face.

"Good look for you, Undersee."

She covers her face with her sticky hand and hears someone, probably his mother, slap his arm.

"Are we too early?" Prim asks uncertainly.

Madge is too mortified by her appearance to speak. Miss Alameda materializes at her side.

She isn't in any better a condition than Madge, but the grime of the kitchen seems to suit her better. The scent of the turkey and gravy cling to her along with the very conspicuous orange globs of pumpkin from a pie she'd dropped earlier.

"Go to the front door," she hisses before slamming the door shut on them.

She pulls Madge along, tells her the staff can take it from there, and drags her up the stairs.

"Get ready. Be down in ten minutes."

Madge rushes through her room, snatching up the things she'd sat out earlier, and flying into the bathroom.

The water is cold, the guests had probably used all the hot water taking indulgent showers, and she curses them. She scrubs the grease from her skin, shampoos her hair and hopes the smell of food doesn't stay with her. When she hops out she curses again, because she's dropped her underwear and one of her socks during the dash. She throws on her dress and throws open the door.

She suddenly feels like she should thank the guests for using all the hot water.

Gale is standing in her room.

He's standing by her bookshelf, his large fingers running down the spin of her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice', studying it.

Her heart drops to her bare feet and she begins frantically scanning the floor for her panties before he notices her. They're next to her bed and she quickly kicks them under, praying he hadn't seen them.

"Gale!" She'd meant to sound irritated, but it came out as more of a squeak.

He turns, his eyes trailing from the books to her still damp form. "I was looking for the bathroom."

She glares at him. He would've known very well her bedroom wasn't the bathroom the moment he opened the door.

"It's down the hall."

"What about that one?" He points behind her.

Madge gapes at him, "That's mine!"

Gale chuckles, "You're the only one that can use it?"

She's the only one that ever does, but telling him that would only draw attention to her privilege so she simply glares.

_Should've pushed the dresser in front of the door again._

He makes to brush past her and she grabs at his arm, thoughts of him using her facilities making her face burn. Her dirty clothes are in there. Her dirty panties and bra are just thrown on the ground…

Then he snorts.

"God, Undersee, I don't need to use your stupid toilet."

Her face is crimson, she knows it.

She's afraid he'll turn, get upset, think she doesn't want him in the bathroom for some other reason, so she begins to explain.

"It's not-not that. I just got out of the shower and…my stuff…"

He stares for a second, his mouth is just barely open, thinking about what she'd said. Then he starts laughing. Hard.

"You think you have something I've never seen?"

She's heard the rumors and she's positive she doesn't, but that's not the point.

He pats her hand as he finally calms his laughter, a few errant chuckles still escaping his chest, reassuringly.

Before she can stop him he's made his way over to her bed and flopped down, across her grey comforter, knocking her lone pillow onto the ground. He runs his hands over his face and up into his hair, mussing it.

"I just needed to get away," he finally tells her. "I-We've been watching all day. They left the cave." He doesn't say it, but Madge senses a 'finally' at the end of the sentence before he takes a breath and continues. "B-Mellark was stomping around, scared everything within a mile away. Idiot."

Madge wants to tell him not everyone has been into the woods, has had the chance to hone their hunting skill, but she's too happy that he's referring to Peeta by at least his last name and she lets it go.

"Five is dead."

It takes several seconds for Madge to realize what he's said.

Five, Gabrielle, the little redhead from the power District, is dead. Madge had forgotten about her. She thinks that maybe that's what the clever little girl had wanted.

She sinks onto the bed beside Gale, simultaneously relieved that there's one less obstacle between either Katniss or Peeta getting home, and overwhelmingly guilty for that relief. The girl had been someone's daughter, a sister too, maybe. She'd been too hungry, apparently, and eaten the poisoned berries Peeta had mistakenly picked.

"Poor girl," Madge murmurs to herself.

"Yeah," Gale mutters as he sits up.

She can feel the warmth from his body radiating off him, onto her cool skin, and she shivers. Her heart stops, she's certain of it, when his hands settle on her shoulders, giving them a little rub.

"Cold, Undersee?"

Normally she wouldn't be. The upstairs rooms are usually warmer. But the guests don't like the heat and have turned the thermostat to arctic. Combined with her icy shower she's frigid.

A nervous little laugh escapes her and she shakes her head, standing up as quick as she can and putting some space between them. Suddenly she isn't so cold.

"They'll have to face Cato now." She's thinking out loud, trying to forget the chill on her side where Gale had been just moments before and rid herself of the flush on her cheeks. "And look what he did to poor Thresh."

Gale nods, "Katniss can take him."

_But then what?_ Madge thinks sadly. _What becomes of the 'Star-Crossed Lovers' then?_

She shakes her head, shakes the thought away. They have to get through the night first.

"Get back downstairs. Those _women_ are kind of fond of you." He makes a face and she forces a smile, "Don't worry, I don't think they'll try anything. Miss Alameda told them something, I have no idea what, so don't ask, and she assures me it'll keep them from you. Mostly just want to look, I think."

She _did_ have the faintest idea, something to do with 'substantial deficits' and 'incurable', but Gale doesn't need to know that.

He nods bleakly and heads down.

Madge snatches up her panties and races to the bathroom.

###############################

They're halfway through dinner, without incident, when Cordia tells them about the Glaives. Misfortune of their own ilk is apparently the only thing that could distract them from the gore of the Games. That and none of them were particularly interested in the girl from Five.

"Oh, yes, it's just a scandal!" She's beaming, as if she's about to tell them something wonderful.

"They found them on the train, naked as jaybirds the both of them," she lets everyone, or at least all the other guest, fix their frozen faces into looks of horror. "Evlyn had stabbed him over one hundred times! They found her in the closet, hung herself with the sheets from the bed! Can you believe it! 1200 count, finest cotton in all of Panem, sheet and she hung herself with them! No thought for the next person that'll use that room!"

Judging by their gasps of outrage, Cordia had hit the truly worst part of her tale firmly on the head.

Miss Alameda takes a bite of turkey, "Guess Plutarch won't have to give them a refund after all."

"Did she leave a note?" Vivette asks, not even stopping shoveling Madge's potato creation onto her plate.

"Oh, goodness me, yes! Quite racy," she looks to Vick, Rory, and Posy, as though considering not continuing with her story, but then decides it's too good to wait. "They'd been _sleeping together!_ She was pregnant! And she confessed to killing that call girl! The blonde one that turned up in the dumpster at the Oyster! Killed her out of jealousy! Just dreadful!"

The grin on her face makes Madge think she feels it's anything but _dreadful._

"Haven't you had your eye on their apartment?" Vivette asks suddenly. Cordia gives a sheepish grin.

"Well, yes…"

Vivette jabs her potato covered spoon at her, "You should call and ask about it!"

"Not too soon?"

"Oh no! Strike while the iron is on!"

They babble on, discussing how Cordia can rearrange the less-than-dearly-departed Glaives' now uninhabited apartment as Madge, the Everdeens, and Hawthornes listen in visible horror.

Madge wasn't their biggest fan, and by the sound of it they were less than sterling people, but they were barely dead and their supposed 'friends' were already repainting their house.

"They're monsters," Gale mutters. Madge glances at him.

Miss Alameda must hear him too, because she leans over and whispers.

"Yes, they are, but it's a really nice apartment. Right near the Presidential Manor. You know what they say, location, location, location."

#################################

The rest of the evening is filled with dancing and drinking. The Glaives and the girl from Five are lost to the creeping feeling that these Games are coming to a close very soon.

Gale glowers at the women as they fawn over him, but mercifully keep their hands to themselves. He still holds Posy, using her as a sort of shield between he and them. Vick stays glued to Madge's side; her dress is wrinkled where his hand is permanently clinging to her skirt.

Prim is pale, pressing to her mother's side, the both of them giving rote responses to every question they're given.

_Excited to get to know Peeta better. Miss Katniss so much. She's always been such a natural athlete…_

Madge is wondering if it'll ever end.

There's commentary on the television, Victors from Four eating calamari, handsome, bronze skinned men with brilliant smiles. Several of the women are making crude comments about them. Miss Alameda is sitting on the couch, watching it with the same intensity she'd had on her face the night she'd thrown the knife at Gale.

"What's up with her?" Gale is behind her. His lips are almost on her ear.

Madge shivers and shrugs.

###################################

"You all did very well."

The gusto is gone from Miss Alameda's speech as she presses leftovers on the departing families. She isn't smiling. She almost isn't focused as she dismisses the Everdeens and Hawthornes.

Madge walks the group to the gate. She has the sinking feeling she'll see them far sooner and under far less delicious conditions the next time.

Posy had fallen asleep and so Mrs. Hawthorne tells Madge goodbye and leaves with the Everdeens. Vick hugs her and then, to her surprise, so does Rory. A little too long a hug, in fact. Gale smacks him on the back of the head and he sheepishly lets go before racing off with his brother to their mother.

Gale frowns up at the house.

"How do you stand it?"

She isn't quite sure if he means the cold of her house or the character of her company, she assumes it's the latter though and shrugs.

"Don't they drive you crazy?"

She shrugs again. They make her furious. Furious and terrified. There's nothing she can do, though. They aren't even just reporters. They're probably some of the richest people in all of Panem. Upsetting them would spell doom for them all.

She and her family are holding the line for the entire District. They'd been doing so since Katniss Volunteered.

Gale does it so fast she doesn't realize he's doing it. Her face is in his chest, he smells of the detergent his mother uses, and her arms are once again pinned uselessly between them. His fingers run a line through her hair before settling at the nap of her neck.

"If you need a break, you know where we are."

His voice is low, a soft rumble against her ear. Her heart stops in her chest.

When he pulls back she nods, unable to form any kind of articulate sentence. He smiles, then pats her on the shoulder, a little awkwardly considering he'd just hugged her, then saunters off to catch up with his family.

She should go back into the house, help her father slowly urge the guests into their rooms, but her feet won't move. They've rooted in the spot. Her hand reaches up, rubs her cheeks, they hurt for some reason.

"Stop grinning like an idiot and come help."

Her reverie is broke by Miss Alameda. Some of the briskness is back to her voice.

She has a couple of garbage bags in her hands, she must've started cleaning up the mess and helping the staff. Her dress is mussed and her hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail.

Madge nods and goes to help her.

"Boy is bad news, you know?"

She's looking at Madge, a sort of simple sadness on her face.

"He'll break your heart." Her voice catches, "He won't mean to, might not even know he's doing it, but he will."

Madge shakes her head.

"You have it wrong. Gale and I, we aren't-it isn't like that. I don't like him like that."

Miss Alameda snorts, "Yeah, you do."

"I think I would know."

"You would think you would know, but sometimes you don't. It sneaks up on you when you aren't looking." She swallows thickly, "And you can't have it, Madgie. Sometimes, no matter how much you want it, how much you deserve it, you don't get to have it."

It's stupid, because she doesn't like Gale like that, sometimes she thinks she hates him, but standing by the trashcans she can feel her heart start to crack at the Victor's words.

"Why not?" She needs a reason, because it's unfair and painful. If they want it, deserve it, why shouldn't they be able to, have as much right to this 'it', as anyone else?

"He's in love with her. Or he thinks he is, maybe he is, how would I know?" She laughs weakly.

"Maybe it'll change."

She doesn't know why she said it. Of course Gale loved Katniss. Of course he didn't really care about Madge. She had less of a chance at his heart than she did of reaching the stars and the moon.

A few tears trickle out of Miss Alameda's eyes. "No, it won't."

Madge leans on the trashcan.

"Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a land far, far away, I was just Birdy. For a little while i was a little girl, I had a family, then I had friends, then I was Reaped. Then I had my team. Now I don't have any of them. Katniss Everdeen, if she wins, she'll doom them all. And that boy, he'll go down happily. Right or wrong, he'll go down." She runs her hand across her eyes, smearing her mascara, "You're better off not caring. Trust me."

"Maybe you're wrong."

The instant she says it she knows how silly it sounds, how childish. Miss Alameda had lived between the Capitol and the Districts since she was a child, she's seen this play out on an endless loop of misery for years. She isn't wrong.

Her mouth twitches up, "I wish I were."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 14**

The sun peaked through Madge's window, waking her from her less than restful slumber. She catches the latest review of the Game on the television. It had been left on by the guests, all of whom had slept where they passed out, and it blared with the exciting development that the water near Katniss and Peeta had dried up.

_So that's how they'll do it._

Her father has already seen, left for his office. The end is fast approaching and Madge knows he's still worrying over all the details of the District that could land them all in trouble.

Miss Alameda is outside already. She has something large hanging up by the shed.

At first Madge is horrified, its fleshy coloring and size make her think it's a person, but once she walks onto the porch she can finally tell what it is.

A pig of some sort.

The Victor is covered in blood. There's a bucket, with what Madge realizes must be the creatures entrails, at her feet and she's examining a saw. She sees Madge, gives her a tight smile, then proceeds with butchering.

There's a coppery scent in the air and a smell Madge can't quite place, but attributes to the butchering, floating around her as she makes her way out to the mess.

"Water dried up," Madge says as she eyes the blood pooling in the bucket of guts.

"Almost over," Miss Alameda grunts. "Few days. Maybe just hours. They'll round us up when it's close."

_But close to what?_

There were three possibilities.

Cato could win outright, the simplest end to a complicated game.

Then the two less simple solutions.

Katniss and Peeta could win. An unthinkable thing, two Victors, but highly unlikely. That offer would be snatched away, Miss Alameda and Madge's father are certain of that. It would prove the fallibility of the Capitol, it simply couldn't happen.

Then there was the chance either Katniss or Peeta, one or the other, could win. Somehow Madge doesn't see that ending much better than both coming home. Mr. Abernathy and his collaborators plan for this end, hope for it, but it won't be pretty. It won't be happy. They want to use the Capitol citizenry's outrage in some wild plan to free them all from the hell of their lives.

Madge still just can't see how any of the possibilities is any better than the other.

###################

It's after Cato runs into the Mutts that they call for a mandatory viewing.

It's evening when Madge reaches the square. She's managed to leave the guest behind. Miss Alameda told her to head out, not worry about it, and Madge is grateful to leave their endless chatter and tasteless clothing for a while.

She's one of the first there, along with the Mellarks.

She feels a little guilty for having left them to Miss Alameda's machinations throughout the whole ordeal, but somehow she thinks they and the Victor were better left to their own.

Emmer and Rhys nod to her, before turning back to their very pale father and still stony faced mother.

"So this is it," Gale is behind her. His eyes are up on the screen, streaming with snippets of former Victor's and the final threes' families interviews.

His jaw tightens. This is the end, for better or worse, and he knows it.

"Any news from the witch?"

Madge shakes her head.

Other than what Madge, herself, could already deduce, there was little for Miss Alameda to tell them. Gale scowls at that.

Vick, emerges from the increasing crowd, his mother, sister, and Rory making their way behind him. He sees Madge and rushes to her, throwing his arms around her waist while giving Gale a questioning look.

"You aren't being mean, are you?"

"Why do you think I'm being mean?" Gale looks a little annoyed.

"Cause you are sometimes," Vick tells him, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Gale seems so offended Madge has to turn her head to keep him from seeing her snort of laughter. He hadn't been being mean and she wants it to stay that way.

She sees the guests filtering in, easy to spot in their florescent attire and sequins, jewels, and feathers. Miss Alameda is herding them, best she can, she's back in green, to match her hair, lips, and nails.

Madge notices a group of men putting out rows of chairs, which is odd, there's never been seating provided before. Even during the 69th Games, that ended at noon, on what felt like the hottest day of the year, they hadn't given them chairs. People had passed out and one elderly man had died.

Her father arrives at her side and Gale asks, "Where'd the chairs come from?"

Madge looks to her father, but he seems just as puzzled as she is.

"Miss Alameda, I assume."

But when she comes over, after finally seating the guests, she compliments them on the arrangement.

"Pretty swank, Undersee. These chairs are straight from the artisans of Seven, and they don't even get to use them."

"You didn't provide them?" Madge's father eyes the chairs warily now.

Miss Alameda, mouth turning down, shakes her head, "Not my thing, really. Do I look like I care if anyone is comfortable?"

Her demeanor would seem to say no.

One of the men, young and bronze, painfully handsome, rushes to them. "Miss Birdy Alameda?"

She gives him a narrow look, sizing him up, before nodding. He flashes her a tight smile, as though he isn't positive this will end well, and hands her something, then runs off before she can inspect her parcel.

It's a paper box, white, the top is closed. She gives it a little shake and it has a dry sort of rattle, which she seems to think is safe enough, so she opens it. Then she smiles, plucking out what appeared to Madge to be a fried looking clump.

"Calamari." She inspects it for a moment before tossing it in her mouth.

Vick, seemingly less frightened of her than he had been, stands on his toes to look into the box.

"What-amari?"

"Calamari. It's a delicacy. Very expensive. Would you like some?" She offers the box to him, then a somewhat confused looking Rory.

Gale eyes the box, "What's calamari?"

"Fried squid," she clarifies, popping another piece in her mouth. "I think that tells us who our mysterious chair benefactor is."

######################

Madge somehow ends up sitting between Gale and Vick. They're on the first row, where they can get the best view of the carnage.

It's supposed to be for family only, but Mrs. Everdeen and Prim insist she's been with them since the beginning, helping then through the ordeal, so she deserves to sit with them. Her father, wedged between Copernicus-the-birthday-boy and a peach skinned woman, smiles weakly at her.

She can see Miss Alameda down at the end of the row. Her expression is bored as she polishes off her calamari and listens to the woman on the screen, Cato's mother Madge thinks, exhaust herself praising the Capitol. For all the wonder on her face she might have been picking paint for the bathroom.

Then the action starts.

It turns Madge's stomach from the very beginning.

Vick ducks into his mother's side early on, hiding his face from the gore of the fight. Madge can see Rory try to tough it out, he makes it through most of the last battle, but doesn't last long once Cato tumbles off the Cornucopia and the Mutts begin their grisly work. Posy whimpers from Gale's lap and clings tighter to him before finally crying herself to sleep.

The hours crawl by, but Cato, in his all too effective body armor, won't, _can't_, die.

Madge has her hands wrapped around the bottom edge of the chair, gripping it so tight her fingers begin to tingle. She feels a gentle pressure on her left hand. Something rough and slightly damp rubs over her knuckles then down to her fingers, attempting to un-pry them from the seat.

She looks down and finds Gale's large hand resting on hers. Her fingers slowly unfurl and Gale's hand wraps itself around hers. They're both hot and clammy. He doesn't look at her, doesn't even make a move that he's even noticed what's happened. His hand may be possessed, for all she knows, acting of its own accord.

Before she can stop herself she gives his hand a squeeze, and to her shock, he squeezes back.

######################

It drags on all night. Somehow, Madge knew it would.

Despite orders not to, several people nod off. Cato's weak cries and occasional screams aren't enough to stave off the lull that comes with the dark warmth of summer nights. Madge thinks the Peacekeepers might jostle them, wake them, but they never do. A small mercy, she thinks.

At some point she dozes off, too.

She wakes when Gale moves his shoulder and whispers her name, a deep, hoarse rasp, his breath ghosting across her face.

"Undersee. Undersee. Madge, wake up."

It startles her and she blinks rapidly, trying to refocus in the dull morning light. She quickly notices she's slouched over onto Gale, practically fallen over on him, face pressed into his shoulder. There's probably an indentation on her cheek from his shirtsleeve. She shoots back in her seat and checks his sleeve, praying she hadn't drooled all over him. Which is a silly thing to worry about when her friends are still in very real dang-

Suddenly her eyes refocus on the screen, she remembers where she is and slips into a panic. What had she missed?

"I think she's going to finish him," Gale whispers.

She begins shaking, fear and adrenaline shoot through her.

Gale shifts beside her, readjusts the still sleeping Posy, then Madge feels his hand on her back, tracing gentle circles over her spine. Her breath dies in her chest and her stomach, which had seconds before been queasy, begins fluttering. She focuses her eyes on the screen and tries to ignore the warmth of his hand.

It ends so abruptly Madge wonders how it hadn't happened earlier. It was so simple, so quick, how Cato died by Katniss' arrow.

People begin to stir around her.

"It's over?"

"It's over!"

"They're both alive? Two Victors?!"

The guests are blubbering again, drunk and drugged and buzzing with too much sugar. Madge looks to her father who is staring, unblinkingly, at Miss Alameda.

She's still in her chair, slouching, legs out in front and lazily crossed at the ankles. Her arms are across her chest and her bored expression is gone, replaced by one of expectancy.

Madge feels Gale's hand stop and rest at the nap of her neck.

"What?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know."

Then the announcement comes, just like she had expected. They retract the offer. There can only be one Victor. Just as there always had been.

While the people of District Twelve are mute in shock, the guest shout in outrage. They upturn their expensive seats and sling their jewelry at the screen. They've paid for this victory and they _deserve_ it.

Madge feels tears building in her eyes.

It had been a lie, just one more glittering lie. Now Katniss was going to kill Peeta, because Peeta was dying and he's _Peeta._ He would die for Katniss. He was going to. One way or another.

Or he would have.

Katniss became an unknown again, she veered from what they expected from her. She offered up her life, offered to sacrifice herself alongside Peeta, to deny the Capitol _their_prize. Their Victor.

It was brilliant. It was dangerous. And it worked.

As much as Cato's death drug out, Peeta and Katniss' rescue from is rushed, frantic. Peeta has lost so much blood, they must be worried.

Once they're on the hovercraft the show crosses over to Flickerman and Templesmith, both confused, blinking and unsure what they've just witnessed and announced.

Finally, Flickerman smiles dazzlingly at the screen, "Well, that was historic!"

Madge pulls her eyes from the screen to Gale. She isn't sure what she'll find.

He's hugging Posy, gently rubbing her back and murmuring soothing things into her ear. Madge catches his eye and gives him a weak smile. She's half turned, planning to go find her father and sort out her mind, when Gale catches her. He pulls her against his chest, next to Posy's dangling leg, and presses his face to her hair.

She can feel his lips moving against her forehead, though if he's speaking or simply wording some kind of silent pray she doesn't know.

Without thinking, she wraps her arms around him, pulls him closer to her. She breaths him in, detergent, earth, and a warm wind, she may never get another chance, after all. She loves him, and she hadn't even realized it.

Her heart breaks a little, because Miss Alameda was right, she can't have 'it'. She can't have him.

He belongs to Katniss, and nothing will change that.

She turns her face and catches a glimpse of her father and the Victor, seemingly cheerful, talking. Their smiles are strained, though.

_"Two is twice the family, twice the emotional baggage, twice the hassle."_

There are more variables now. Katniss isn't as static as they'd imagined and Peeta is clever. Those moving the pieces, playing this dangerous Game had taken a gamble, and had a move they may have hypothesized, but not really expected, played against them. What their next move was, Madge had no idea, but she can see in her mind's eye Mr. Abernathy and other darkly shrouded figures, false faces forward, plotting.

Madge closes her eyes and breathes in Gale again. A final comfort as they go forward to what she doesn't know.

#####################

The guests are gone within two days. They want, _absolutely need_, to get back to the Capitol. There are parties and dances to attend and they simply cannot miss them.

Madge is grateful for the return to her empty house. It seems much larger without the guests and their endless luggage, less full of life, even if that life was all madness and debauchery.

Miss Alameda stays a day longer. She comes into Madge's room the afternoon she sees off the guests.

"Catch." She tosses her little compact to Madge. It plops onto the bedspread dully.

Madge picks it up and examines it, small, and black, and uninteresting.

"I'm giving it to you."

"I don't wear makeup." Madge makes to hand it back.

Miss Alameda takes it back with a grin. "Oh, Madgie, don't you know nothing is ever what it seems in wonderland?"

She opens it and holds it out again. Where the mirror should be is a small screen. It's flat, dull, no light emits from it.

"Smile at it, check your hair."

It's a stupid thing to do, but she's had to do so many ridiculous things recently, what's one more?

As soon as she does words and images tick across the screen. It flickers for a second before turning a soft green.

"It recognizes facial movements. I can send messages, but that's too complicated for you right now." She settles next to Madge on the bed. "That pen of your father's is grossly out of date. Y'all are just lucky they warned us to keep an eye on this mess early on."

"It'll detect bugs, far more sensitive than the pen, and it has the most recent codes and frequencies. The Capitol changes them every few years so we have to update. Lucky us, District Three is particularly fond of me. This little guy ought to be good for another six to nine months. You open it, check your hair, and it'll let you know if you've got a third party listening in, goes yellow. Do something with your lips, lipstick or pucker, and it blocks them for a while, turns back to green. It goes red, they've changed the codes and there's nothing to do. Smile and it turns back to a regular mirror."

She smiles at it and it fades, the screen is suddenly a mirror.

Madge closes it and turns it in her hand.

Miss Alameda runs through a few more things and forbids Madge from telling anyone about the compact. Her father knows, of course, Miss Alameda had considered giving it to him first.

"He'd look a bit stupid with a makeup compact though, wouldn't he?"

Madge snorted.

"You aren't as completely awful as you try to pretend to be, you know?"

She smiles weakly at Madge. "Yeah…I am."

######################

Gale, Vick, and Rory come to see Miss Alameda off. Or, more likely, to make sure she leaves.

She's all red now. Her hair, nails, dress, and shoes are all ruby red. Her lips are darker, though, and Madge realizes her lips must be tattooed that awful green.

"Keep your nose clean, Dorothy."

"Why do you do that?" Rory finally asks. "Why do you call Gale 'Dorothy?'"

She smiles, as though it should be obvious.

"Dorothy. _Dorothy Gale_. You know, 'Wizard of Oz'?"

Judging by their faces it isn't and she sighs.

Madge gives her a bright smile, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope we never see each other again."

Because that would mean dark things were rolling their way. She was a siren before a storm, a warning. One Madge will prepare for, but never wants to deal with.

Miss Alameda give her a grim laugh, "For you sake, I hope that too."

_But I wouldn't bet on it._

It's unspoken, but Madge hears it all too well.

She pulls Madge into a little hug, "Be careful, Madgie. Eyes open, pay attention."

Madge nods when they pull apart, "I will, Birdy."

There might have been tears in her heavily made up eyes, but she blinks and their gone.

She jumps up on the train, her dingy gray bag over her shoulder, and waves to the group. She points to her eyes and then to Gale.

"Remember what I said, Dorothy!"

Then she's gone.

###########################

Katniss is beautiful during her reunion with Peeta.

Madge watches Gale watching them. His eyes are hard and searching for some silent sign from Katniss, the girl he loves, that it's all a ruse.

For him it has to be.

Peeta, though, is so sincere, so blazingly in love. It breaks Madge's heart for him, because for the first time, she thinks of them in reverse. Katniss is playing the Game and Peeta is the pawn.

She plays her part well, running to him, seemingly so in love, resting her head on his shoulder.

With each touch Gale grows more and more tense. His arms, his shoulders, his jaw and cheeks all tighten and flex.

His sister is blissfully unaware, playing with her doll on the blanket they've sat out. The rest of the family knows though, they glance back at him, uneasily, before giving him his moment of what little privacy the Square will allow.

Madge's hand, sweaty and strangely cold in the balmy evening, reaches up and comes to a rest on his shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. He doesn't seem to notice at first, he's consumed with what's transpiring on the screen. She's about to give it up, decided to take her hand back, when he reaches up and covers her fingers with his, anchoring her in place.

They stay like that, his hand holding hers to him, until the two Victors are crowned and the crowd is released.

#######################

Madge's heart shatters, collapses on itself. A million irreparable pieces lodging themselves into her lungs, stealing her breath, when Katniss utters the words, says she couldn't bear the thought of being without Peeta.

It's an act, Madge knows that, but the look on Gale's face, the way the light seems to bend away from him, steal his hope, crushes her.

His brothers and sister are with his mother, all sitting with the Everdeens on a little blanket nearest the screen, while Gale and Madge are sitting back against one the building along the outskirts of the Square. So Madge takes a chance again.

She reaches out, trying to ignore that her hand was slippery with more sweat than she knew she was capable of producing, and takes his hand like he had the last night of the Game. She runs her fingers over his knuckles and gently tries to pry his clenched fingers from his palms.

He lets out a ragged sigh.

His hand turns and his fingers curl around hers.

"I'll walk you home."

He's silent after that, nothing more than flesh over stone, still playing Katniss and Peeta's reunion, their interview, on an endless reel inside his head. Madge wishes he wouldn't.

"She's getting better," Madge finally manages to choke out when they reach her garden gate.

Gale doesn't seem to understand, only frowns at her.

"At p-playing the Game." The words catch in her throat. As if they never should have been there in the first place.

He's as unreadable as he had been, studying her with his moon gray eyes. A smile finally flickers across his face.

"Yeah."

The sun is setting, sinking ever lower in the sky, painting the horizon behind him. She can't help but stare.

Madge doesn't deserve him, she knows that. She's nothing but a spoiled child, the daughter of privilege. She's never wanted for anything, not really. She's never hungered, not once in her sixteen years, but in the moment she feels starved.

Gale deserved Katniss, deserved whatever happiness he could have. They were one and the same, brilliantly burning flames in their dull world. They'd saved each other. Katniss was a spark, possibly starting something huge, and what had Madge done? Played hostess in a tea party of the mad.

She was a pale substitute. Not even a candle to Katniss' inferno.

But, God, how she wished she were.

Gale's finger swiped across her cheek, just below her eye, a puzzled expression on his face. "You're crying."

"Sorry." She wipes her face, smears the tears messily across it.

There's concern there, written plain as the stars in the sky, on his face, in his eyes.

If she were like them, Katniss and Gale, she would grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him to her, kiss him.

She isn't though. She's a thinker, one of the unnoticed and easily forgotten, not the bundle of impulses firing in her stomach, urging her to press her lips to his. Just once.

A pained smile forces its way onto up her lips as she begins to excuse herself, then he grabs her hand and pulls her to him.

She freezes against his chest. One of his hands weaves into her hair the other settles low on her back, pressing her to his body. Awkwardly, she reaches around him, clings to him.

He sighs, "Thank you."

It feels less like a thank you, though, and more like a goodbye.

#########################

He doesn't come the next few days when his brothers do, doesn't make an attempt to contact her about Katniss' return to the District.

Madge stands on the platform, on the day of the Victors' return, with her increasingly absent father, and smiles as brightly as she can for the cameras when the reporters, less gaudy than Vivette and Gordon, ask them how excited they are for the District. Two Victors. The Parcels they will receive.

She keeps the smile fixed on her face as she glances out at the crowd.

Vick is watching her, a concerned little frown on his face. Rory is bouncing on his toes, holding an equally rambunctious Posy's hand, excited for the train, for the supposed end to the madness of the past few weeks. Gale has Prim hoisted on his shoulders. He doesn't even spare Madge a passing glance.

Katniss isn't back, hasn't emerged from the just arrived train that's slowing at the station, but her presence had never really left the District.

Gale, his family, are all slipping away from her. They belong to Katniss. Madge had no right to them.

Gale would never be hers, it was a foolish notion to entertain, that he ever could be. He was Katniss', anything else was unfathomable.

_Smile brighter, Pearl, the cameras are watching._ She can see her father's eyes tell her.

Madge turns her back to the crowd, readies herself to greet the returning Victors. She's going to be a good friend, to both of them.

For now, though, she has to focus. She's the Mayor's daughter, she has a part to play, but this is foreign ground, an unknown path. She's leaving her safe zone, possibly forever.

She's in a dangerous new world.

And somehow she knows it's only going to get more dangerous.

#####################

A/N: That's it. This story is done. I'm slowly working on the second book, if anyone cares.


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